What's happening
by jasminetiger
Summary: It's just a cold, it'll go away in a few days, Jason keeps telling himself. He keeps telling himself that, but it only gets worse from there. NO SLASH (T-M) because of Medical stuff
1. Chapter 1

** This takes place after Dick gets back from Spyral (which hasn't happened.) I'm basing some of this story off an episode I saw of 'Monsters Inside Me;' so if you don't like medical stuff, you have been warned. If you do I hope you like it. Plus, this story has just that a story to it; so it's not 'all' medical. I am not a doctor and probably a lot/some of this stuff wouldn't happen to you if you got 'ill' with this. Plus, I like to add stuff medical and otherwise for the drama. Remember this is fiction. While the 'disease' I'm giving him is real some of the stuff might be off about it (not everything.) In fact while you're reading this story, you can go look up the real thing.**

** In this story Jason is 19, but he's kinda missing six months so 18. Dick is 22/23 and Tim is 17. **

** Oh, and this is in no ways by (any) means a slash. They are (brothers) and Bruce is there (Father) (nothing) more.**

** So I don't own Batman or anything Batman related, or Monsters Inside Me, etc., etc.**

** I hope you enjoy.**

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**Chapter one**

Jason's Point of View

I woke up with a pounding headache and coughing up a lung. "Uh," I wheeze grabbing my chest, "Owe."

This stupid cold has been bothering me for a month now, and it's only getting worse! It's like 'Oh, Jason your life's not crappy enough today, here let me just be a pal and give you nausea. Oh, not bad enough? What about pounding headaches, not bad enough? Here I'mma gonna give you shortness of breath and good ol' coughing fits. The list goes on! But today, today takes the cake! Nausea, pounding headache, body aches and to top it all off… A rash! Yay! Oh, and I probably have a fever.

Ugh, well good I've always wondered what literal crap felt like! 'Hold on a second,' I think while lifting my t shirt to get a better look at my stomach, that's not a rash… Are those… those…boils?!... Yep…Oh, great boils… Boils… What the heck! How does that…

Still feeling exhausted I flop back down onto my pillow. "Uh, I hate this," I rasp before thrown into the misery that is a coughing fit. My whole body shook and my headache was intensifying causing black spots to blur my vision. By the time I was done I was left wheezing on my bed; oh and add dizziness to the growing list.

'Great,' I thought to myself, 'can't even complain out loud to myself; joy.' I shifted a little to pick my phone up off my nightstand. 6:31 A.M. 'Oh, yeah,' I thought a full three hours of sleep. I put my phone back on my nightstand before barrowing myself further into my sheets. 'When was the last time I took some medicine? 'Soon enough,' I thought. I didn't really want to think about it, because I really didn't want to get out of bed.

Everything was aching. I should probably go see a doctor. But if there was one thing I didn't like to do it was 'see a doctor,' can't exactly tell you why, but I have a feeling it's because of what comes with the 'oh, so fun' doctor visits; needles, examinations and prescripted drugs. The reason I hate those, well, that's a long story...

. . .

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. "Ugh," choked out before coughing like crazy. By the time I was done my phone had stopped ringing. I couldn't even say 'Owe' in fear of going through that torture again.

I laid there motionless trying to get my bearings. 'Okay, what's up,' I think while trying to access myself. 'Throat hurts like sandpaper and fire, head's pounding, but not as bad as earlier, stomach's queasy, but also not as bad, body's sore, and yep, the rash is still there.

Just after I was finishing accessing myself and right before I was about to start complaining my phone started ringing again. So I complain in my head, not wanting to say anything, while reaching over to my nightstand. I notice my hand's shacking slightly before seeing who it is. 'The Princess,' I read; why is Tim calling me? I look at the date, 'Crap,' I was meeting him and Dick today, for who knows what. I forgot; they had a number of things they wanted to do. Originally I had declined but Tim finally talked me into it, something about Christmas being soon, running errands and just getting it over with.

I start to sit up to reach over to my water bottle on the nightstand when I realized I'm soaked with sweat. 'Of course, stupid fever, or whatever; I feel like crap.' I grab my water bottle and chug the thing down before testing out a few words, they come out sounds like whispers at first, then scratchy, 'til I finally get them to sound borderline normal, I just need to use a slightly deeper voice; so yeah I sound like a buffoon.

By the time I'm done getting my voice in check, sorta, my phone had stopped ringing. I go to 'missed calls' and right before I'm about to call back 'The Princess' 'Sunshine puke' calls; Dick. 'Great, just great,' I think to myself before answering.

"What," I answer knowing exactly why he was calling. It came out sounding all garbley and stuff, he'd probably thinks I'm just in a bad mood or somethin'. "What do you mean, 'What,'" he replied trying to imitate my raspy voice, ha yeah right, Dick, doing my voice, cute. "I mean, what," okay that was better, but still raspy I think while lying back down.

"You're meeting me and Tim today remember?! We were going pick you up in front of starbucks at nine, its nine thirty!" I look at my phone, 9:27 A.M. "No, it's nine twenty seven," I snap sounding even raspier, "I must've forgotten," I grumble while laying my forearm across my eyes, 'owe, headache, remember, idiot; don't do that.'

"Forgotten? We've been planning this for weeks," Sunshine puke yells, which, interns, makes my head pound!

"Yeah, well it's your own fault for planning it so early," I tried to yell but my voice died down near the end; crap. "… Are you sick?" I pull the phone away from my ear before trying to clear my voice which is freakin' painful to do. "I'll be there in thirty; try not to get your panties in a knot," I reply before quickly hanging up my cell.

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**That was the first chapter. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**In this chapter you'll notice Jason is repeating himself and going off(…) in his trail of thought; because - you'll just have to read and find out! **

**This is NOT a slash, they are (BROTHERS!) (NO SLASH) Thanks. Hope you enjoy. **

**I don't own any batman or monsters inside me stuff- go back to first chapter.**

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Chapter two

I made it to the stupid coffee joint in forty two minutes, if I were being precise, but hey, even if I wasn't I can always count on Princess Tim to be.

I was dressed in a black t-shirt, a thin crimson colored hoodie, a winter leather jacket, it had two layers to it, dark pair of jeans and a pair of Nikes.

After I had dragged my butt out of bed I had walked (stumbled) to my bathroom to see what the damage was. Still tired from sleep I had lazily check my temperature feeling like crap; wanting nothing more than to just crawl back in bed. It had read 100.1, not so bad… So I'd done what any logical person would'a done and took some over the counter painkiller/fever reducers. I had pushed down my Nausea, and forced myself to numbly eat a granola bar for my low blood sugar, hint the dizziness.

I had checked my abdomen one last time, it was covered in a rash and the boils looked slightly worst. Okay, the rash had been there off and on, probably apart of the evil virus, but like I said the boils were new. Though the rash had been there off and on, it had never been this bad before. And there seemed to be some type of swelling/bruising thing going on around the 'dreadful' autopsy scar, causing it to look more profound.

'Okay, Jason, as soon as you get back you are making an appointment with Leslie, no excuses,' I'd thought, while starting to gently put ointment on the rash and whatever else was 'that' was, before gently rapping it with gauze. Dang, it itched though!

After that was accomplished I had leaned on the counter for a second (minute) before I had started heading for the door that's when another wave of dizziness and exhaustion decided over take me. So I'd thought it would be nice to lie down for a minute(s).

Okay, so the flu's goin' 'round, it's December! Though I'm not sure if this is the flu something else maybe, it had started out with my throat hurting, maybe strep? Surprisingly, that doesn't make me feel any better, I'd thought, before being thrown into a full blown coughing fit. 'Again, owe!' 'Okay, fine,' I told myself, 'I 'am' going to see the doctor, there happy?!' I thought to nobody at all, maybe the sickness… Yeah, this flu has gotta go, or strep, or whatever!

I had gotten to the coffee shop around fifteen minutes later, after getting like a hundred texts from Sunshine puke and The Princess, honestly, how are these guys morning people?!

So here I am!

"Well, it's about time," Tim said while smirking, Dick just looked annoyed; why does that make me feel a little better? But as soon as he turned to look at me something close to concern replaced that annoyance, in fact, if I didn't know any better, that's what I'd call it.

"What happened to nine (cough), I'm sorry, I mean ten thirty," Tim the Princess asked, with that arrogant drawl, that he's so fond of using. He had yet to look up from that phone of his. "Close enough, its ten forty two," I snap.

"Forty-three."

I look down at my phone 10:43 A.M. "Oh, whatever," I yell but it came out sounding all gurgly and scratched up. 'Fantastic,' I thought. Along with, 'Man I feel like crap, I really hope we sit down; I feel all winded and I think my blood presser just dropped.'

At this, of course, Tim finally thought it the time to look up from his phone. His eyes quickly scanned over me accessing me as though I were some kind of mutant rat, yes, mutant rat, rather than a guy with a raspy voice; leave it to Tim to make you feel uncomfortable. When he was done he looked me in the eye, with that still unreadable look on his face and said, "Well, you look like crap."

Dick looked like he was about to say something but I cut him off, "Well, gee thanks, I've worked so hard to accomplish this look," I started but my voice started getting gargly again so I had to fix it. "HMMH, u-hum!" Tim's face stayed pretty passive and Dick almost looked horrified which made me want to laugh, but I chose against it. Before any of them could say anything, I continued "What do you think took me so long," I asked with my signature smirk painted across my face.

Sunshine was just about to get out what he had to say, when Princess chose to take the stage. "Well, since you asked," I went to interrupt him, because he was being a little know it all again; knowing I was just being my normal sarcastic self; but he just got louder, getting a few heads to turn our way.

"I think you were late because you slept in. You could have forgotten, and I wouldn't put it past you if you did, and judging by your appearance you also felt like crap, so that is probably one of the reasons for you sleeping in."

"The reason why you were late the second time is also due to your illness, making your actions more sluggish. Judging by the way you're carrying yourself and the dark circle under your eyes, pale complexion, sorry paler then usual," he said, causing me to snarl at him even more.

"- and sweat around your hairline, you've been dealing with this for over a week now I presume, perhaps more," he knows he's pushing me I can see him trying not to smirk… Or maybe that's just the fever… Nope defiantly trying to mess with me.

"You're also sleep deprived-"

"Shut up!" I rasp, now he starts to smirk. Before he can continue, and before I can punch him in the face, Dick steps in. "I think what Tim was trying to 'say,'" he starts, giving Tim a quick pointed look, "You look like cr- sick! Sick." He catches himself, but if looks could kill, he'd be dead right now.

"It's just a cold," I start causing 'PRINCESS TIM' to snort, "At worst the flu, maybe strep, but whatever it is, I can manage" I finish while glaring him.

Tim and I might be friends now, but he has this attitude about him that makes me want to punch him in the face, sometimes… But I also find it amusing so it just so happens to be one of the reasons we get along; weird I know.

"How long have you been sick, Jay," Dick asks, with that worried look on his face. Gosh, they do know I've lived on my own for most of my life, right?!

"Does, it matter? Contrary to the belief I 'do' know how to take of myself," I say.

"We know that Jay,-""Stop calling me that!" I hate it when he calls me that; like we're all buddy, buddy now. Dick and I never got along, ever. I mean, yeah, every now and then we had some 'brotherly' moments, but at the end of the day, he didn't really like me and I didn't really like him.

Why'd I even come today? Oh, yeah cause if I didn't they wouldn't let me live this down for awhile, even if they said nothing about it. Tim probably would have, Dick probably not. Because unlike Tim, Dick still thinks he's walking on egg shells around me, to what extent I don't know; but he's not to far off, about it.

"Look," Dick starts trying to stay calm, I can tell. Huh, funny, one second he's 'acting' like the concerned big brother, like he does with Tim and the kid, next he's trying to keep his cool, cute. Though, if I really wanted to I could probably still see some of the concern, but I never said I wanted to. "all I'm saying is, if you don't feel up for it, you don't have to come." Okay, I can practically hear the bitterness in that statement.

"Or-" Tim starts, but Dick cuts him off fast, "Or we could reschedule, whatever works," Dick finishes something between genial (fake) concern I bet, and mixed feelings of so many things I'm not even sure what to place it as.

"Thanks," I spit out glaring at Dick "but if I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have come, now would I? My life doesn't revolve around Dick Grayson – Wayne! Nor Timothy Drake - Wayne!" I rasp.

"Okay, chill," Tim says stepping in, with an aggravated look on his face. "We never said it did. But could both of you stop it?! I mean come on," he says the last part squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the bridge of his nose out of frustration. And I can't help but wonder if that last part was for us or more so him talking to himself, again; he does that sometimes.

"I mean, I know you two aren't the best of-"he starts again, but I start to lose concentration. My head starts to feel too heavy for my body and I sway on my feet a little, Dick's to concentrated on Tim to notice, but I think Tim might of caught it, cause a look crosses past his face, but continues talking as though nothing had happened.

I'm still not concentrating on what he's saying, because I get all dizzy and light head and start to sway again. 'Cr- crap,' I think getting my footing.

I look around a little resisting the urge to shake my head. The sun is too bright and I can hear the muffled sound of city life and it's making my head ache worse as well as my nausea. And gosh, I really want to sit down; my heart's thumping against my chest and I feel winded like I just ran five miles, rather than just standing in front of a starbucks having a nice chat (argument) with my brothers. Gosh, my legs feel heavy, I think while feeling them bend slightly at the knees.

There's this annoying humming sound and then I hear someone trying to get my attention. I look over and see Tim with this apprehensive look on his face. I also look over at Dick who looks like his eyes are going to bulge out of his face and slightly panicked.

"What," I gargle, because Tim was the one trying to say something to me, I think. "I said," Tim started still looking a little worried, "Are you okay?"

'No! I need to sit down before I collapse,' I think. "Yeah," I rasp, before realizing humming noise is coming from my breathing. I'm breathing way to heavy and it's coming out sounding all gurgly and wheezy.

Dick looks like he's about to lose it, "That's bu-""I mean," I raspally, cut him off, still breathing heavily, "I mean, I mean," I look around trying to think of something clearly. "I 'mean' why aren't we getting any coffee, if we're meeting at a coffee shop," I wanted to yell it but I couldn't; and to be honest, I didn't want any coffee I just wanted (needed) to sit down. I realized I was shaking slightly. Gosh, please just let me sit down! I think I'm going to be sick.

"Are you-"Dick starts almost frantic, only to get cut off by Tim again "Are you sure that's best, Jase?" The nickname slipped; he knew it would probably frustrate Dick, that I don't really care if he uses 'some' nicknames, but hey, it slipped. And in this situation, apparently Dick seems to care less; not that I'd really know I'm too busy trying to stand all while looking at the door that's a couple yards away, and trying to psych myself up that 'I (can) make it.'

"Yeah," I'm pretty sure my voice breaks but at this point I'm not sure if I really care.

I can tell they're having some kind of debate behind me, but I don't care. 'Okay I can do this,' I think to myself while slowly taking a step towards the starbuck, before flaring pain takes over my abdomen. I try not to make a noise and bite down on my lip to do so, but of course, that attempt failed.

So here I am standing in mid stride, my mind working a mile a minute, on what I'm not sure, all I know is I 'don't' want to do that again and that I 'need' to do that again in order to get to my destination. If Tim and Dick weren't here I'd probably just let myself collapse, 'cause everything hurts and I'm not exactly sure why and it's hot, then it's cold, the world seems to be spinning and my chest is starting to hurt.

"Jay-son," Tim says in an apprehensive voice. Why would he be apprehensive? Why…- Oh, yeah right… I'm in mid stride and – and everything feels ba – wrong; it feels wrong. I feel a hand come down onto my shoulder lightly, yet my knees buckle, specifically my left one and 'Owe that hurt. Why does my knee hurt?' "Jason, something 'is' wrong, your shaking, and I can continue to give reasons to why something is 'indeed' wrong, but I think you should just let us help you instead… okay," it was intended to come out more so as a question, but instead it was more of a 'okay - that is what we are doing.'

At that point I didn't want to talk I didn't want to think I didn't want anything but to 'just sit down!' Maybe lie down, I really don't care at this point and if I were anyone else I'd be crying on the floor at my own desperation. "Coffee," I croak pathetically eyes still glued to the doors, that are oh so close but seems to be worlds away. My throats on fire by the way!

I feel someone lift my left arm over their shoulders as I collapse under my shaking limbs. I let out a stifled cry of pain as it make my shoulder ach more and set my abdomen on fire. I'm now leaning heavily towards my right, towards the earth, well, concrete sidewalk, and the only reason I haven't fallen completely onto the ground is because this idiot is pulling me up painfully causing my entire left arm, chest and abdomen to protest in all sorts of pain; surprisingly enough, along with the burning is this burning feel of itchiness that only makes it hurt more.

"Jay, we need to get you to a doctor," I hear… Dick that was Dick I realize as I feel myself being slowly lowered to the 'amazing' sidewalk beneath me. I'm placed into a sitting position leaning heavily into the per- Dick, whose keeping me up right/holding me. Somewhere in the back of my pain fuzzed mind I know that we must 'never' speak of this.

"No, no doctor," it started out as a mumble but ended with me trying to sound more stern, but I'm so congested I know it couldn't have been towards my favor.

"Yes, Jason," It was Tim this time, he was crouched in front of me with a very stern look on his face as though he were a soccer mom telling her kids to do their homework, and were the heck did that come from?! All I know is he often has that face when he's Red Robin… Wait! Isn't that a restraint? Why… What?

I'm pretty sure I look very disconcerted at this point, when I realize Tim is still talking and I'm not sure about what, but then I hear "- hospital" "No," I shout and again 'owe!' I know that one didn't come out sounding great, but I don't really care, I think while trying to get away from Dick simultaneously giving a pathetic attempt at a push toward The Replacement. I am not going to the hospital, at this point I'm not quite sure why, I just know I can't go there!

I don't get far because everything's hurting and I just want to curl up and cry and maybe, maybe I would if it wasn't so difficult to breathe right now. I feel someon- Dick grab my upper arms bring me closer to him, and I slump forward away from him, 'cause I don't think I want to fight him right now. I realize people are gathering around us though I can't make out what they're saying, a lady kneels towards us and I swear I feel Dicks grip get slightly tighter before relaxing slightly less. I know she's talking, I think to Dick and I think, I think Dick is talking back… A lot of people are talking. The replacem- no Tim is in front of me again.

The humming's louder now. I feel Dick bring me closer till I'm laying/leaning against him, that's better than leaning forward I access. "-son yes," Tim's saying, why isn't he the replacement ag- "-omething's wrong," he says in a concerned? caring? worried? voice. "We need to get you to the Hospital."

"Jus'- jus' wonna go home," I whimper? I feeling water running down my face; the pain is so intense now and I'm so tired and I just want to go to bed. I see Tim look and mouth something to something behind me… Dick? I feel Dick move slightly behind me; his head? People are still around us, I wonder why.

Tim's looking at me again. "Okay, Jase, we're going to take you home." I try to hum in response while leaning my head against Dick and starting to relax a little and even that hurts, or maybe it never stopped hurting.

Next thing I know I'm being lifted to my feet and give out a surprised yelp of pain and feel myself falling again. But Dick has his hands under my armpits and it hurts and it burns. I feel moister on my cheeks and I'm not entirely sure why. Dick's talking but I don't know what he's saying and I don't care. I just let myself fall completely; not really registering how much that would hurt. Dick's grip is tighter now, under all my weight, and it burns! And in hurts!

I feel under my armpits, my torso my shoulder every stretch of skin and muscle burn and ache. The humming changes to something I can't place my finger on and my chest feels tight and I feel light headed and I'm starting to see black dots again.

I feel myself being lifted into a bridal style and I slump against somebo- Dick. The people are closer now they're all talking and I hear Tim talking and I hear Dick talking quietly but I don't know what anyone's saying and I'm not sure if I care.

I want to close my eyes and go to sleep, but it doesn't feel right it doesn't feel safe. All these people make me feel odd like something's wrong and I don't like that feeling. I think antsy's the word for it.

Finally we get to a car and Dick lays me carefully in the back seat, but it still hurts and all I can do is make groans, grunts, whimpers, whatever noises seem to be coming out of my mouth of protest. "-orry, Jay," I think I hear Dick say, now that everyone is further away and I can, kinda, better concentrate on his voice." He shut the backseat door, causing my head to pulse more, before he's in the front seat and shutting that door.

"-hat hurts, Jay," he asks leaning over to look at me. 'Everything,' I want to say but just keep myself quite and stare at the roof of the car the water's leaking down my face from everywhere and my eyes burn and everything hurts and so many things burn and I'm pretty sure I feel wet everywhere… must be sweat? I feel a cool hand on my forehead and I groan in approval, 'cause that feels so good.

Then I feel it quickly pulls away and I groan in disapproval 'cause it just felt so good. Then I feel the cold winter air being let in and I shiver, som-Dick must 'ave opened the window, and now he's yelling something; owe.

I hear a door open, the passenger door, and shut, loudly; owe. Then I hear frantic shouting and I groan again and close my eyes slowly and feel a nice 'cold' hand on my face again, followed by loud talking, before I feel a jerk of the car, and I guess we're driving now.

I whimper, 'cause that stupid window's still open, and that cold hand's still on my face, and there's still noises, and everything is just wrong, and I just, just… go to sleep…

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**Well, that was chapter two, hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**In this chapter I'm going to be going through Dick and Tim's Point of View, and how they might react to this situation. (There is no slash what so ever - they are brothers!) I do not own any batman nor monsters inside me- go back to first chapter. **

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**Chapter Three**

**Dick's Point of View**

'How did this happen,' I ask myself, again, while looking back at Jason 'shaking' in the back seat; 'Why is he shaking? How did everything go so wrong so fast?' I think on the edge of panic.

"How did this happen," I ask Tim, forcing myself to keep an eyes on the road, all while trying to keep calm.

"I don't know, he obviously has been sick for a while," he starts before gradually raising his voice, "But Jason being 'Jason' didn't think to seek anyone for help!" I'm a little taken aback by Tim's outburst; he's usually the calm one.

"Huh," Tim breathes composing himself, that's more like him, "Okay, the best thing to do is to stay calm. Whatever this is it isn't your typical 'flu;' as Jason had put it," Tim says glancing back at Jason, before calming himself again.

"Why woul-," I start, before Tim cuts me off, again! "For all we know he could have been drugged," he says thoughtfully, and I can't help but wonder if he's thinking out loud again, or actually talking to me.

"You think someone would have drugged him," I ask.

"I'm no-," Tim starts only to be cut off by Jason's mumbling and other noises of discomfort. I'm torn between wanting to pull the car over to check on him, or flooring it as fast as I can, hitting anything that gets in my way; okay not people, but whatever!

Tim leans over his seat while I glance back at Jason; gosh, he looks bad! I see Tim put a hand on Jason's forehead, causing him to moan while leaning towards it. His shaking's getting worse, to the point that his teeth are chattering.

"Tim, maybe we should take him to the Hosp-," I start, but Tim interrupts me again. "His fever's getting higher," he says starting to pull away, but he quickly puts it back in place when Jason makes a startling noise while jerking his body to follow Tim's hand.

"And no, we're bringing him to the manor. If he has been poisoned, that will be the best place for him," Tim concludes.

I look back at Jason and feel so helpless, angry and so many other mixed feeling that I just all but lose it.

"He probably was just being an idiot again, and didn't tell anyone that he was sick, because he's so freaking prideful; and now look, look he's shaking like a crazy person, among other things! In fact even if he's been poisoned, like your suggesting, he still wouldn't have told anybody" I yell out of anger, frustration, confusion, fear? I don't even know why I'm yelling to be honest, all I know is my stupid, rouge, confused, hurt,-ugh!-, all out complicate - I don't even know what to make of, little brother, is in my back seat, and who knows what's happening to him.

'I'm panicking; I'm panicking and need to calm down, I was trained for this,' I tell myself while gaining some composer.

"Would you shut up," Tim yells, still riled up from what I had just said, before Jason stops whimpering causing us to both shut up. "…What did I just say," Tim whispers, "We need to stay calm. I'm calling Bruce; just make sure to take the fastest route, 'without' jolting the car, Jason's clearly in a lot of pain, and I'd like to limit it; we 'don't' need him going into shock," Tim says while taking out his phone and scrolling down to Bruce's contact on his cell.

'Okay, okay, everything is okay,' I think to myself taking a steady breath. I just need to get to the manor and take things from there. 'Okay, I'm going to need and take a left here,' I tell to myself, while blocking out the noises coming from the back seat and Tim; something I'd learned to do as Robin.

I knew how to stay calm in situations like this, this was just… unexpected, yeah, that's it. Now though, I need to be professional, now I need to put my emotions at bay and deal with this the right way. Tim needs me to; Jason 'needs' me to, so that's exactly what I'm going to do.

**Tim's Point of View**

I scrolled down to Bruce's contact on my cell before pushing 'call' button; I then realized my fingers were trembling slightly. 'Jason's going to be fine, you can't allow yourself to get emotionally involved. Compose yourself, think of the task at hand,' I tell myself.

The phone is ringing and as it does I, relatively quickly, switch places with my hands, due to the fact that the one on Jason's head is warming up, and Jason seems to be responding best to coolness, at the moment. Even if he wasn't I would still have switched hands, Jason's fever is high, though I'm not sure that's the only thing causing the heat to pore off of him, I'm assuming there is inflammation, and judging by his obvious discomfort, and the redness that is gradually swelling around his eyes, I do not think I am too far off, in my theory.

I wish I could better examine him, but now is neither the time nor place; 'matter at hand,' I think. Soon after that, or right after? Bruce answers the phone.

"Yes?"

I look down at Jason's form, he is getting worse by the seconds, he's slowly turning a deathly pale and his body violently racks with a shiver, forcing unnatural noises from his mouth. I run a soothing hand through his sweaty hair, while looking away. Swallowing down my panic I slightly pull the phone away from my mouth informing Dick to open the front two windows slightly, before realizing the passenger one is already open, letting in the cold air.

Dick cracks his open and slightly closes the passenger one, as I direct my attention back to the phone.

"-at's wrong," I hear Bruce say. "Tim-"

"I'm here," I cut him off. "Bruce, I need you to listen to me, something's happened-ing, happening," I take a somewhat calming breath before continuing.

"It's Jason, we don't know what's wrong exactly, yet, but it's bad. We're on our way home and I need you to prep the med-bay." 'Home' had slipped out before I had a chance to truly think about what I was saying, but in a way I was still right. The manor is still our home. I still visit often, and have my own room that I use frequently, and Dick hasn't moved out since coming back from Spyral, yet.

"Tim," Bruce starts, and I can tell he's trying to stay calm, "What happened?..."

"Oh, right, of course, sorry," I stat to ramble and have to clear my voice to catch steady myself. I used to do that a lot when I was younger, I still do, but I try to control myself.

"Me, Dick and Jason were meeting today at the Starbucks, in the Southeast region of Gotham; it was originally planned that we meet at nine but Jason was late, so we decided to call him and make sure he didn't forget, which at that point,- huh," I caught myself rambling again, and at this point I'm getting frustrated and stressed out and Jason's- no don't think about that right now; matter at hand.

"So, we try to- we eventually," I growl out hating that I can't get this out right and the stress is slowly starting to get to me.

"Tim," Dick says in a voice that makes me want to all out punch him in the face, "do you wa-"

"No," I snap causing Jason to whine even more, great, "Just do what I told you."

"Tim," I hear Bruce say in a calm collective voice, "I need you to calm down; breathe for a second." Frustrated, because one part of me is screaming that I don't have time to 'breathe,' while the logical part of me is telling me yes to breathe in order to compose myself, so that's what I do.

"Okay, Jason eventually met us at Starbucks, after the phone call, which was at nine-twenty-seven; he arrived at ten forty-three, even though he had said he'd be there in thirty minutes… When he got there he was sweating, looked exasperated, breathing slightly too heavy, accumulated with a slight wheeze; in short he looked like crap."

"After accessing his appearance we, me and Dick, started advising what we should do. During that conversation, he started to get unsteady on his feet, his breathing got way too heavy accumulated with a gasping/wheezing sound that was definitely congested. He also looked as though he were going to pass out; his sweating got worse, pretty much everything worsened."

"We asked what was wrong but he insisted that we get coffee, I think he just wanted to sit down. His knees started to weaken and he looked… unsure, like he wasn't quite aware of what was going on. Before he could collapse Dick had placed Jason's left arm around his shoulders to support him, that's when his knees gave out, and he gave a startling sound, indicating he was in a large amount of pain."

"Dick had slowly lowered himself and Jason onto the sidewalk, were Jason was leaned up against him, for support. By then his gasping and wheezing had grown to an alarming rate. He was very unfocused and seemed unsure about everything. It was also extremely evident that he was in an immense amount of pain; so much so that a crowd started forming."

"I had suggested a hospital, but that of course, seemed to be the only thing he understood and he started to panic, conflicting further pain to himself, but Dick held onto him and he had worn out quickly."

"He had started to 'cry' due to the amount of pain, I'm guessing and managed to gargle out something that sounded like 'home' and 'bed.' So told him I would take him home and he all but collapsed onto Dick almost passing out entirely."

"Dick had tried to lift him to his feet, but he was in too bad a shape to even help hold himself up and that had also caused a tremendous amount of pain; causing Dick to have and carry him, gently, to the car, before carefully laying him in the back seats."

"I had managed to get the crowds away and jumped into the car; so…"

"We don't know what's wrong and if we don't get him medical help soon he's going to slip into shock. His fever is dangerously high, I'm estimating, he's pale and he has a rapidly growing case of inflammation; due to the clothing I can't tell how severe it is, and any kind of movement seems to only worsen his case."

"His eyes have swollen almost completely in the five - eight? minutes I've been talking to you. And… and… his breathing seems forced, perhaps his throat's slowly closing? I'm not sure, but he should remain stable until we arrive."

"He has been making pain filled noises almost non-stop, but I think he has completely passed out now," I say, panicking a little. "Do you think I should try and wake him up? Do you think I should check his throat, though, I don't know if that will turn out to well, I-I," I start to stammer before Bruce cuts me off.

"No, how far are you from the manor?"

"A-about ten minutes."

"Okay, I'm going to prep the med-bay with Alfred. I need you to keep him calm and stable, Tim."

"Okay, and Bruce, call Leslie."

"…-"

"It's that bad," I ground out.

"I'll tell Alfred to call Leslie over here; I'll see you in ten minutes."

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**Hope you enjoyed.**


	4. Chapter 4

** You probably noticed that I changed the ratings from T to M, well, that's because, a little in this chapter and in the chapters to come, if they come, it is going to have a LOT of medical stuff, meaning descriptions too, most likely. If you do NOT like medical stuff i wouldn't recommend reading, you have been warned. I will try and not be gross, but your body can do this if you are ill with certain things. Plus, drama. I am not a doctor, I don't own Batman and stuff nor Monsters Inside Me- go back to first chapter. NO SLASH- THEY ARE BROTHERS!**

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**Chapter Four**

**Tim's Point of View**

After hanging up the phone I turned my full attention back towards Jason. There was some form of red swelling that seemed to be slowly crawling up Jason's neck, and it took everything in me not to examine it further.

'You can't do that even if you wanted to,' I thought practically, 'It could be contagious, better safe than sorry. Besides, you can't go messing with Jason, not here not now; wait until you get to the Manor.'

I started assessing Jason critically, as to not miss anything- as to distract myself. 'His face is pale,' I started before swiftly, as to not disturb Jason further, switched hands; the one that had been on Jason's forehead had started to warm up again, so I had to switch it with the one that had now cooled, due to the fact that I had placed it right in front of the air condensing, which had been switched to_ low. _Plus the front windows were cracked open, letting in the cold air.

'Better watch that, can't let it get to cold in here, or the fever might increase.'

'Okay, focus. His fever is _high_ perhaps dangerously so, but we'll have to deal with that at the Manor. He's sweating profoundly, which is good, it should help the fever, even if it just keeps it at bay for the time being.'

'His breathing sounds very congested, but it doesn't sound as though he has pneumonia, yet, it could progress, and at this rate, quickly. His breathing is also getting even more labored, before calming down slightly, which is _not_ good. He could start hyperventilating and we don't have anything to help with breathing in Dick's car.'

'His throat also _sounds_, yes sounds, I can hear, which means it's that bad, swollen. If his throat starts to collapse and/or close I'll have to poke a hole into the airway, so that he can breathe. I can hear him every now and then make slight choking and gagging noises and when he does it again, only this time slightly louder, I look to see where we are.'

' I recognize that we're now six minutes out, at most, Dick might start speeding once we're off the main road, but I'm not sure if he'd risk it in Jason's condition.'

'We'll make it, he'll be fine, we'll make it. Onl-'

"We're almost there, just hold on," Dick says quietly, to me or Jason I'm not sure, but when I look up he's looking into the back seats."

'Okay,' I think turning my attention back to Jason, 'His nose is starting to swell, alarmingly so, if it continues it could swell shut entirely, it also looks red and agitating. His eyes are also puffing up, could this be an allergi- no, not this. Besides, Jason had explained earlier that it was a _cold, _which it obviously wasn't, or strep, possibly the flu.'

'Perhaps it started out that way?... Whether it did or not, Jason described it as such, even though he knew he was lying to us, and most likely himself.'

'Also, when they had asked how long he'd been ill, he refused to give a direct answer, and assessing his body language, the way he was carrying himself and his overall appearance, he had had this for some time, just not so sever. How long? A few days? At least a week… Either way an allergic reaction would have happened much sooner, and not have slowly crept up on him 'til he all but crashed; right?'

'Moving back, he is obviously in an enormous amount of pain, I'm guessing the rash has something to do with it; but that would imply this, this _rash_, whatever it was, was covering a majority of his body, how could it have progressed so quickly? I knew it was too, because it had slowly crawled up out of the collar of Jason's shirt and jacket over the time they'd met, just, Tim looked back at the clock 11:08 AM, twenty-six minutes ago.'

'Had it been there before; if so then why would it start to inflict so much pain, and spread so rapidly _now?_' To prove a theory I place my other hand just above Jason's burning skin that hadn't been affected by the _rash_ then hovered it above the place affected by the rash, careful not to touch it, it felt like a furnish, 'Just like I thought, it's inflaming his already burning/fevered skin.'

Jason started to stir slightly under from me and I drew back my still hovering hand, before slowly moving it to cool off at an air conditioning system, so he could switch hands again soon.

'No, no please don't wake up, we're almost there!' I thought almost frantically, but made myself calm down immediately, so Jason might relax again and slip back into… sleep, because unconsciousness was not sounding too great at this point, or was it?

I feel Dick move besides me and I know he was looking back at Jason as Jason continued to stir. I realize that I was holding breath and I'm pretty sure Dick is too; but Dick had turned his attention back to the road and started to slowly speed up, now that they were off the main road and where only two minutes from the Manor. He made sure not to speed up to quickly though as not to disturb the passenger(s) inside the car.

Jason continued to stir and slowly shook his head back and forth while starting to make silent noises in the back of his throat, but his throat was so swollen they came out sounding muffled. He was clearly still out of it and I only hoped he would remain that way and go back to sleep until they at least got home.

Jason then made this terrible choking/gagging noise inside his the throat before his entire body scrunched up and started shaking before this gagging turned into some kind of snorting noise, probably do to the fact that his throat was so swollen, and apparently so was his nose, Tim could only guess how bad it was inside Jason's body.

Jason's body started to loosely curl into itself, onto its right side which was facing towards the front seats as his body was racked with shivering.

Then he woke up.

**Dick's Point of View**

I heard Jason make these weird noises from the back seats, along with moving. 'No Jay, not now, please, only one more minute.' But that of course didn't happen. I hear more terrifying noises that could only be coming from Jason and resisted the urge to look back, because I can't afford to lose focus.

"Shh, calm down Jase, you're going to be okay, we're going to help you," I hear Tim say to Jason. "Just relax, okay. We're going to help you, I know you're in pain but I need you to relax, _now_," Tim might have said with a little too much force, but I know he's trying to get a hold on the situation.

I hear more movement coming from the back seat. "Jason, do you understand me," Tim asks, I can tell he's trying to sound stern, but concern is leaking from his question/voice. "Just close your eyes okay," Tim says while he moves, probably putting a hand over Jason's eyes from the looks of it.

I hear more gagging and desperate noises coming from the back seat before one of Jason's legs kicks out sharply, I think his left one, kicking out at the seat in front of him, Tim's, followed by a twisted high pitch sound coming from Jason's mouth accumulating with gagging and rasping and so many other startling noises, I hear these snorting sounds too, as if he's trying to suck air in and/or out of his nose, it must be swollen too, that's really not good!

He needs air he-

I pull out my phone before calling Bruce.

"Where are-," he starts before I cut him off.

"Bruce, listen to me," I say trying to keep my voice leveled and drown out the noises coming from my brother(s) in the car, "I'm pulling up to the-" I start before realizing the gate has already been opened.

"Meet me in the front," I say before hanging up and quickly make my way to the front steps of the Manor. I jerk out my keys before turning to the back seats. Jason looks horrifyingly terrible, something you might see off of Bizarre ER.

He's white as a sheet and sweating so much that it looks like he was actually dunked in a tub, his body is contorting in pain, I imagine, but at the same time he seems tense, especially around his torso areas, yet he seems to be twitching in pain as well. His Breathing is coming out in short almost frantic gasps for air and there are rashes and swellings on various part of his body; that I can see.

Tim is still attempting to calm him down, and it actually appears to be working as Jason starts to try and relax his body, though he can't help the twitching and shivers coursing through his body. He seems to be trying to control his breathing a little better and slowly starts to ease his body to relax.

We need to-

I look up and see Bruce heading down the stairs of the Manor.

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**Hope you enjoyed!**


	5. Chapter 5

** There is NO SLASH in this, just family! I don't own batman stuff or monsters inside me- go back to chapter one, etc.**

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**Chapter Five**

**Bruce's Point of View**

I quickly make my way down the front steps of the Manor and I can already hear Tim frantically trying to calm Jason, I presume. I can also hear these disconcerting noises coming from the back seat of Dick's car, 'Please let that not be Jason,' I think to myself, but from the glimpse I get of Dick's dread covered face, I know it is.

I brace myself before throwing open the back door to the car and am immediately taken aback by what I see; I knew it was bad, just not this _bad._

After quickly assessing Jason I try and think of the best way to get him out of the car and down to the cave without causing him further pain, which I know isn't going to happen, so without further _damage_. Dick is standing next to me now, "What are we-" Dick starts before Tim interrupts.

"He's in shock."

"I know," I say still trying to come up with the best way to get Jason out of the dang car, before crouching down to get a better angle.

"Tim, listen to me," I say making sure I stay calm and focused, "I need you to _gently_ move Jason towards me; we need to get him down to the med-bay, now." I can tell Tim's nervous but he bights his lower lips and give a quick nod of his head, before slowly gets out of his seat to the point where half of him is in the back seat and the other half is sitting between the two front seats of the car.

He then looks at me reassuringly before giving me a slight nod and starts to ease his left arm under Jason's back and his right Jason's shoulders and starts to ease him towards me, being careful as to not directly touch his skin, we still don't know what that _rash_ is, that seems to be creeping up his neck. Not to mention his face seems to be swelling in multiple areas, mostly around the eyes, nose and somewhat mouth, but I can see some swelling on other parts of his head as well. I have to push the concern out of the way, for now.

Jason did not respond well, as I had thought he wouldn't. He starts making desperate noises of discomfort and pain as his eyes shoot open and he starts to move in protest slightly before catching himself but continues to twitch in pain.

The noises sound terrible and the swelling of his nose and throat make it sound even worse. I need to get him to calm down before his throat closes entirely.

I grab the his side around his lower abdomen and back, with my right hand while grabbing his right leg with my left to ease him out of the car and it causes him to tense and start to twist in pain and a horrifying noise rips from his throat as tears spring from his eyes.

I quickly get a good hold of him, bridle-style, and hold him close to me for some form of comfort, I realize Dick is trying to calm Jason as I quickly make my way up the front steps and through the house.

Jason's shaking only gets worse and his crying gets more vigorous. When his eyes roll back into his head I practically fall down the stairs to the cave in my hurry to get him to the med-bay, "Just hold on, Jason," I say out of desperation.

By the time I get to the med-bay Jason has intentionally tried to stop making noises, due to the evident pain it is causing him, but every now and then the sound of a high pitched wheeze of air escapes, because his throat is too damaged to form noises.

Alfred is already done setting up the med-bay by the time I lay Jason onto the table, "We need a breathing tube," I tell him while he quickly try's to access Jason.

After laying Jason on the bed I try to see what needs attention first, while putting on a pair of gloves, the others are as well, but in order to truly do that I need to first remove his clothing, the one on his torso at least; most of his _pain_ seems to be emitting from there and it could very well be causing his shock, that among other things as well, but I still need to make sure he's stable.

"Tim," I say to get his attention, who is presently trying to assist Alfred with the breathing tub. "I need you to help Dick get Jason hooked to the monitors, now," I say while going digging through a drawer for medical scissors.

"What can I do, Father," I had forgotten Damian was down in the cave and would have jumped due to surprise and adrenalin if I were anyone else.

"Damian, I need you to contact Thompkins and see where she is," and before I knew it Damian was already up the stairs. Good, now I focus on Jason.

I turn back to the bed, scissors in hand, and start to make my way over to the bed where Dick and Tim are trying to hook Jason up to various machines, but having a somewhat difficult time with all his clothing in the way; every time they attempt to touch his already spasming body it only starts to contort and jump away from the touch, especially when they try moving his cloths.

He is trying, almost desperately, to not make any noises, but he cannot help the many that seem to keep slipping out, causing his face to contort in even more pain, his throat and nose are both so swollen now that inhuman noises are coming out when he's just trying to breath.

When Alfred returns with the breathing tube he tries to ease Jason into opening his mouth, causing a silent scream to emerge from Jason and his whole body starts to contort before being sent into an all out spasm attack.

"Dick, get me a sedative now!" I yell, trying to get control of the situation and trying not to panic.

"Master Timothy, would you please assist me with the breathing tube after Master Richard returns with the sedative," Alfred says trying to be the calm one, but I can tell he is on edge, we all are. 'How did this happen?! What's causing this? How-' my thoughts are cut off by Jason's violent thrashing, 'this could put him into cardiac arrest, I need to calm him down.'

"Jason," I say walking into his Jason's line vision, "Listen to me Jason," I say in a voice I only seem to use on the boys, to help calm them down. "You're going to be fine." I continue, while running a hand through his wet hair, his fever is way too high. "Calm down Jason, look at me," but his eyes are moving everywhere and unfocused, often rolling back into his head. He starts to make gagging noises and the tears are still coming at a steady paste down his face, which unnerves me, because Jason always tried so hard not to cry do to any amount of pain, especially cry in front of others.

"Shhh, Jason I'm here- Where is that sed-" Just then Dick rushes forward with the sedative in his hand, I can see his hands are shaking, but he plunges the syringe into Jason's arm, who flinches and jerks, quickly and pushes the plunger down.

It'll take a few moments, perhaps minutes before the sedative takes full effect on Jason; due to his training, plus the all-caste only strengthened his body's resilience. We didn't have that long though, that's why as soon as the sedative was injected Alfred and Tim set to work, because Jason's throat was only getting worse.

Tim looked white as a sheet, but his face was determined as he pried Jason's mouth open so that Alfred could get the tube down Jason's throat as quickly as possible. Jason started thrashing everywhere including his head once his mouth was fully opened, but they had to get the breathing tube in at all costs.

Dick was quick to try and restrain Jason's trashing limbs while I tried to still his upper body and head, Jason's startling noises started to get more vigorous and he let out a noise I don't think anyone of us could forget, of immense agony; the noises Jason was making were of thoughs I don't thing I had ever heard before.

Jason tried to stop thrashing his body once me and Dick had gotten somewhat of a hold on him, but he could help his body movement's entirely. His face looked to be the epiphany of agony, and he tried to get better a better focus with his eyes as he tried to say something only to be thrown into a complete coughing fit.

His whole body started to convulse on the bed, bouncing with each cough. "I quickly reach over to a breathing mask and force it onto his face until his convulsing and coughing subsides, even slightly.

"We need to wait until the sedative starts to take effect before we can give him a breathing tube, or he'll go into cardiac arrest, I say while running a hand through his wet hair to help him calm faster.

Jason's coughing sounded horrible with his throat and nose so swollen; he was barely getting any air.

"W-we might need to poke a whole into his windpipe and put a tube threw there," Tim said, looking on the edge of panic and composer, only Tim could pull that off.

"Perhaps Master Timothy is correct on this one," says Alfred. I look down at Jason, the sedative is starting to work, he's still tense and his body's still quivering, but he's not thrashing anymore. He also looks more lucid, his eyes are barely open and his gasping and congested breathing aren't as frantic as they were just a few moments ago.

Before I could respond Damian is by my side "Father, Doctor Thompkins will be here in eight minutes tops," Damian says while glancing warily at Jason.

I nod and turn my attention back to Jason before, "What is wrong with Todd?"

"Sir, he need the breathing tube now."

"I understand that Alfred" I carefully to pull back Jason's shirt and jacket collars, while Alfred and Tim prepare for what they might have to do next.

"Dami, why don't you go upstairs and wait for Leslie," Dick says while trying to get Jason hooked up to some monitors before turning to the cabinets to get ready a fever reducer when needed and along with other drugs.

"But-"

"Go Damian, I need you to be there when Leslie gets here to bring her down to the cave as soon as possible," I say while turning to him.

"Yes Father," Damian says with a wary but determined look in his eyes as he glances back to Jason's quivering form, and then he's head for the stairs again.

I turn and pull Jason's shirts and jackets down to get a better look at his neck, where we might have to put the breathing tube, and I am stunned for a moment.

"Maybe we can try to put it through his mouth again now that he's more… lucid," Tim says seeing that the sedative has taken effect now, though it hadn't knocked Jason out completely he was still very lucid, Tim is right, but I start cutting off Jason's upper clothing, fearing the worst.

"Bruce, what abou-" Dick starts only to gasp in surprise after getting a look at Jason's torso. Jason is flinching away, though not by much with the heavy sedative pumping through him as I remove his upper clothing.

"My word," Alfred says seeing Jason's torso arms and soon to be neck, Tim flinches back only for a split second while gasping slightly in surprise, looking ghostly white as all the blood drains from his face.

"I-I knew it was bad but…" Tim trails off.

"This. Is not your fault Tim," I say while removing the rest of the clothing with Dicks help, Jason heavily tries moving his body in pain but starts to give up once we've removed it all, though his shaking is getting worse and so is his breathing, he's started to choke and cough again just not as violently.

This is not good.

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**Hope you enjoyed**


	6. Chapter 6

**So this chapter is going to be were it gets a little in depth with the medical stuff and you might start to get a little bit about what's happening to Jason. There is NO SLASH in this what so ever! I don't own batman, monsters inside me - back to first chapter, etc. etc.**

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**Chapter Six**

**Dick's Point of View**

Oh my gosh; my breath caught in my throat and for a second I'd forgotten how to breath. Jason, my brother's torso, shoulders, upper arms and soon to be entire neck, was, was- oh gosh, what is that, what happened?! How could this happen?! How could Jason not have known, he couldn't have known, could he? No, no one could fake being okay with this, it's impossible; what had happened?!

His entire abdomen and upper body was beyond recognition; I feel like I'm going to throw up, I need to sit down, I feel light headed, I think I want to scream. Jason's skin was completely red, with blotches of blue and purple, and it was all swelling. There were bumps coving his skin oozing out blood, pus, and a clear yellow liquid, and it reeked.

Parts of him look like he had extreme road rash, others sandpaper and in parts it looked like someone had sloppily tried to skin him alive, you could start to actually see some of his, muscle on other parts, parts where skin is suppose to be.

And oh gosh, I knew Jason had scars, we all do, and I knew he still had them from… And his autopsy scars look so swollen and red, like it might pop, or rip open at any time, in fact, I think some of it might start. All his scars were swollen.

It spread from under his pants line over his torso, onto his back, not fully though from what I can see, under his armpits, shoulders, lower neck, all the way to his upper arms.

Oh, gosh, all that pain we were causing him, all that pain I had caused him, back at the starbucks; of course somewhere in the back of my frantic mind I knew I hadn't known, and even if I had, I still would have had to get him into the car somehow.

Oh, gosh, how did this happen, what is this? I'm going to start pani-

I had heard Tim and Bruce talking just a second ago before Jason started coughing again, snapping me back to some sort of reality.

It's not as strong as it was before, but that could be from the sedative. His entire frame is quaking and his coughing is getting a little more frantic along with the gagging, because his throa-

Oh, gosh, his throat! This is only the outside, what does it look like on the inside?! And then it hit me, swelling is also around his eyes, nose and throat, I can also tell there's more around his head, I can see some surrounding his right ear too, going under his hair. Oh my gosh, that's probably how it starts! He might- no! Don't go there.

The gagging starts to get more profound and his shaking is getting worst, Bruce moves fast enough to make flash jealous, throwing on a breathing mask.

"Bruce," Tim says, I don't think I've ever seen him so terrified, but I don't process it, I turn my attention back to Jason, everything seems to be happening one-hundred miles per hour.

Alfred's tense voice is yelling something and so is Bruce's, Tim seems to be frozen almost, but like he's going to jump at any given moment, and then there's a liquid that's a mixer of colors being coughed into the air mask. It's not just saliva; it's a white and brownish yellow, mixed with blood, and a whitish pus. Wait, just like on his-

"Dick!" I hear Bruce yell and snap out of my trance, I had gone into shock, I now realized, before starting to gain composer. "Vitals now," he yells and I can see the fear in his eyes and body language, this is bad. I quickly try getting Jason hooked up to various machines, while Tim runs out of the room, Bruce and Alfred are trying to work on Jason's breathing and gagging and I hear Tim practically scream for Damian to get the phone.

It's hard trying to get Jason hooked up to all the machines when he's curling/cringing up onto his left side, especially since I'm on his right, plus he's shaking/tremoring everywhere.

I try to ease him onto his back again, but I'm almost terrified to touch him, Bruce glances up from working on Jason's mouth, with Alfred, and see's my predicament, he then pushes the shaking tensed up Jason onto his back, causing Jason to make a startling noise in the process and cringe up more, but now he's easier for me to get to.

"Dick, look at me," Bruce says with such force it could be mistaken as panic, "It's okay, he's okay, but I _need_ you to focus and help!" He's freaking out which somehow helps me get some sort of a grip, before turning back to Jason.

**Bruce's Point of View**

After I see Dick turn back to hooking Jason up to the monitors, more focused now, I quickly look down to help Alfred with clearing out Jason's mouth, which keeps filling up with pus, discharge, blood and saliva and trying to get him to start breathing again.

He's twisting his head and body, but I can't leave for even a moment to put restraints on him, also they might do more harm than good at this point.

I have to make myself block out his pain and eyes rolling everywhere, which are slowly turning red, the blood vessels in his eyes are popping. I know if I let myself truly think about how bad his condition is it would be to overwhelming, so I need to focus on the task at hand and try to forget that this is my son on the table in immense agony.

I pry his jaw open more and he lets out what I can only guess is a choked sob as Alfred pushes a tube around his mouth to suck the fluids out of the way so we can get a better look at his mouth and throat.

"Leslie -," I hear Tim on the phone, calling to tell her what's happening, Damian should be upstairs calling an ambulance, because as good as our resources are Jason _needs_ to go to the hospital, we determined that after seeing Jason's upper body. Also I can't poke a whole into Jason's airway without possibly further damage.

I swallow down my panic before better focusing on Jason, 'Just hold on.'

"His blood pressure is extremely low," Dick says, "His heart is racing and his temperature is at is at 105.3," he says his in a voice of panic, and my heart drops.

"And it's getting worse, he's in sepsis shock."

"Dick, give him a mild dose of inotrope, negative. I need fever reducers and muscle relaxants now! And give him a stronger dose of a sedative."

"But what if he's been poisoned."

"I said _now_, Dick, if we don't he'll-… only get worse, now do it Dick," Dick gives me a sharp nod before turning to prepare the injections; before I look back down at Jason.

Alfred is just about done clearing his mouth, though it keeps filling, it's coming at a slow enough pace for us to get a look.

I keep Jason's mouth open while Alfred sticks the tube on the right side of Jason's mouth while grabbing a flashlight. I keep Jason's mouth open even when he starts coughing, though it's causing him further pain more fluid also come up, but most gets sucked into the tube.

Tears are still spilling down his face mixing with the sweat, but his eyes are swelling more and so is his nose, to the point where it's almost completely shut. His body is still twisting and shaking to the point where it's frequently jumping on the medical bed, but Dick's already back and preparing to start injecting him. Jason hates needles, I hope it doesn't add to his agony, but I know it should help.

Alfred shines the light inside Jason's mouth, and I feel my stomach drop, again. I knew it's be swollen, but it still surprised me to the extent.

Jason's throat looked as though it had closed in on its self. It looks as though it were swollen shut, puss and discharge where leaking out of his bloody raw throat. White, bacteria I was guessing, and red, almost like a rash covered the walls of his throat. It looks as though his throat were a giant inflated balloon, touching the walls of his throat.

Jason kept gagging desperately trying to get air; his lips were getting a bluer tint by the minute.

"When will-"

Just then I hear Tim running up with Leslie, I hear Leslie gasp before turning towards her.

"He's not getting oxygen," I tell her quickly. Her eyes quickly scan over his body before she rushes over to meet us.

"Did any of you touch his skin directly," she asks while accessing Jason breathing, he's starting to calm, the sedatives kicking in, stronger this time and Tim comes back with a pair of gloves for Leslie and a cold sopping wet rag before gently squeezing and rubbing it all along Jason's head, who gives a week jolt in protest and tries to make some sort of noise, but it comes out as a gag.

"We all did, except for Alfred and Damian, but we didn't touch his…_ rash_," says Tim, continuing the process of trying to lower Jason's fever.

Leslie continues getting a better look at Jason's face, mouth and torso, "This is not good," she mutters to herself.

"From the looks of this it's… Necrotizing Fasciitis, it's highly dangerous and contagious, so none of you can touch _anyone_ until I prescribe you something…. Dang it; when will the ambulance be here?"

"Father," I hear Damian say while running down the cave, "The ambulance should be here in five minutes, tops."

"We might not have five minutes, he needs oxygen," Leslie says getting better look at Jason's neck, who is still choking and quaking but not nearly as bad.

"So you're saying all of _this_ is from some sort of disease," Dick says almost frantic.

"Necrotizing Fasciitis is a bacteria flesh eating disease, meaning he'd have to have had some sort of bacteria enter his blood stream at some time, and I'm not sure if that's the only thing wrong, with him, right now."

"He was in sepsis shock, but I seemed to have calmed it down but his blood level's still too low, his fever's gone down to 105," Dick told Leslie still trying to stay calm.

"105," Leslie repeats to herself, "We can't wait for the ambulance, Tim get a gallon of ice water upstairs, now. Bruce, is there any way we can bring the respiratory equipment upstairs?"

"Yes," say looking down at Jason, who had fallen unconscious after I'd seen his eyes roll back into his head.

"Then, Bruce, honey," She says getting my attention, "We need to get him upstairs, for the ambulance."

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**I hope you enjoyed. **


	7. Chapter 7

** I hope you enjoy this chapter. I don't own Batman or monster inside me- go back to first chapter etc. etc.**

** NO SLASH IN THIS STORY AT ALL!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Bruce's Point of View**

"On three," I told Dick who was currently getting ready to grab Jason's lower shins, while I would be lifting under his armpits so that Leslie and Alfred could slip a blanket under him, so that we may be able to get him up the stairs without spreading further infection to anybody else.

Jason was bleeding and any physical contact would only cause him further pain, this would help if he started struggling, though he was still mildly unconscious and should most definitely stay to out to of it enough to keep from putting up much of a fight, this would hopefully help him from slipping into further shock; it would help both him and me, and it would also help to block some physical contact, which would help him and everyone else involved.

"One. Two. Three," on three me and Dick lifted him up as gently as we could, but Jason still tried to make a noise of protest and barely managed to make physical resentment before he gave up on it, but remained stiff, even with all the meds we had pumping through him, he still remained mostly rigid, just not as badly as before.

After Leslie and Alfred had spread the thick white blanket underneath Jason, rather quickly, because we needed to be quick, we gently placed Jason down. Alfred then placed a cold wet rag onto Jason's face, from the top of his head stopping right above his nose, to help calm both the fever and Jason; while me and Dick managed to somewhat wrap Jason with the blanket. The blanket reached from above his head all the way past his feet.

Leslie was gathering the medical supplies, now with Alfred's help, before walking over and adjusting the breathing mask covering Jason's mouth and nose, Dick then grabbed the movable ventilator machine.

Leslie and Alfred waited a moment before I gently slipped my arms under Jason and gently pulled him close towards me, bridal-style. I tried to block out his contracting muscles of pain and protest, the choking and silent attempts for a sob, causing his body to shake, his upper body even more so. I tried to block out him trying suck in and huff out a breath only for it to get stuck in his still closing, fluid filled mouth, throat and nose.

Most of the fluid was getting sucked down the tube that was still logged inside his mouth, under the breathing mask. But some still managed to come up out of his mouth, hitting the inside of the breathing mask and spilling out around the tube placed under it.

I tried not to think about the stench of discharge, sweat and body fluids coming out of my son's body. I tried not to think of the wetness managing to get through the blanket of those very body fluids. Or of the intense heat radiating off of him; of how when we were only half way up the cave steps he started shaking slightly and trying to fight against my grip only to go rigid again due to the sheer exhaustion and pain he was in.

How his breathing was only getting worse; becoming hard huffs of desperate attempts to get air in and out of his lung, only to come out sounding unnatural and terribly painful.

When we made it into the Manor, we quickly made our way down the stairs into one of the front foyers, to wait for the ambulance to arrive. It had been three minutes in all, so they better be here in two minutes or they're going to have a serious law s-

"Bruce, place him on the couch," Leslie told me while spreading blankets around it. Once they had covered the couch I gently started placing Jason down onto it, I quickly realized he was gently clutching at my shirt through the blanket, before I gently pulled his hand away, because we needed to get a better look at him.

"Tim hand me that," Leslie said while Tim handed her the bucket of ice water, before she started to pour some of the cold liquid onto the cloth on top of Jason's head, causing him to try to incoherently twist and make terrible attempts at noises in protest.

"I know, Jason, I know. We need to keep the fever now," She said, while slowly pouring a little more onto his head.

"What about his breathing," Dick said, trying to set down equipment on the coffee table and floor.

"We don't have the time, and it might cause more damage than good. I thought that maybe I could have poked a hole into the upper portion of Jason's air pipe, that in itself would be a risky task, with his condition. And even if I could there is still a chance that the Necrotizing Fasciitis would have started to spread into his throat even quicker causing, in this situation, even worse results; we're going to have to wait for the ambulance."

"When is that-" I start only to be cut off by the sounds of sirens, 'thank God.'

"Tim get the door now," I yell, preparing myself for what was to come next.

**Tim's Point of View**

I run to the door, as fast as I can, by then the ambulance is almost coming to a stop, not too far behind Dick's car, near the front steps of the Manor. I rush down to meet them as the team jumps out of the truck two men start to quickly approach me, while two others work to pull the stretcher and equipment out of the back.

"Where is he," the one closes to me asks, as we rush back up the steps into the Manor.

"I-in!- Just follow me! A friend of ours is here, she's a doctor, she's been helping," I start rambling as fast as I can. "She said somethi- she thinks its Necrotizing Fasciitis."

One of them nods, and I hear the people with the stretcher behind us.

"How bad would you say one thr-"

"Ten," I reply, already knowing what he was going to ask. They probably get theatrical _tens_ a lot, but there about to see how this is most definitely a 'ten.'

He nods sharply as we turn into the foyer and start heading towards the couch that Jason is on.

I notice that some of the equipment is missing, but the breathing mask and suction tube is still in and over Jason's mouth. He still has the blanket around him and the cloth covering a majority of his face.

Leslie immediately starts to help and explaining the condition. I hear one of the paramedics say something, probably out of shock, when he looks under the blanket Jason is under.

Everything goes into fast forward from there. It's like I was placed right in the middle of a chaotic medical drama. Everything seemed to be happening at once and everyone seemed to be reacting at once, it was almost surreal.

I've been in hundreds of situations just like this, well maybe not 'just like,' but pretty similar, what was so different from this one?

Before I knew it they were lifting Jason onto the stretcher, using the blanket as some leverage, almost as soon as they had Jason securely on, they were off. I soon found myself following.

I felt my heart beating in my chest, Bruce was yelling something, _yell_, was a close enough word for it; Dick was too, the medics, Leslie, almost everyone, but I could only find myself focusing on Jason.

When we started heading for the door, close to it now, I noticed Jason was starting to come to somewhat, his head was shaking ever so slightly. When we started heading down the front steps, I tried to get a better look at him. The medics were ahead of me and they'd placed the ventilator on the stretcher behind his head, so I couldn't get _that_ good of a look.

I could tell from somewhat of the left angle, one of the paramedics was in my way, that he was attempting to move, but was still incoherent.

What if he starts panicking, can he start panicking? He's probably to out of it. What if this is freaking him out; this would probably freak me out, he can't even see, does he notice? Can he notice? He probably doesn't even know what's going on.

Before I knew what was happening, or truly what to do, they were packing Jason into the back of the truck. I noticed Leslie was going into the truck too, probably to help, than she can be at the hospital when he gets there too. She's probably going to fight, if she has to, to have Jason as her patient, or to at least have a part in helping him.

Then there shutting the doors to the truck and speeding off, sirens screeching and all, and I'm just left standing there, with Bruce and Dick yelling and running towards one of Bruce's cars, Alfred was heading towards it too.

I turn to my left and see Damian standing there next to me. His mouth is slightly opened and his face is blank, but not. I see something that most nobody ever get's to see come from Damian, fear and… shock, and upsets me further and I'm not even quite sure why.

I let out a quite breath of air before grabbing Damian's arm and at first _pulling_ him along as we start making our way, soon to be running towards the car that the others are already getting into.

We soon reach the car and we both jump in, before we could fully shut the doors, we were off.

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**I hope you enjoyed. **


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter will be Jason's point of view, obviously, because it says that. Well, i'd say Jason's in some sort of'a state of shock. Plus, he has a really high fever, etc., etc. He will often repeat himself and his thoughts will shift rather easily. **

** This is taking place in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.**

** This entire story has NO SLASHES in any way.**

** I do not own batman or monsters inside me, go back to chapter one, etc. etc.**

** Hope ya enjoy.**

** If you do not like medical stuff, probably shouldn't read, you have been warned.**

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**Chapter Eight **

**Jason's Point of View**

Pain… Pain…

Why is my… My… My body's on fire! Oh, gosh I'm dying… I'm dying… I'm dying again.

I can't… Breathe! I can't breathe, oh, gosh, I can't breathe. It hurts, it hurts so much. I'm choking, and I don't know why. Why am I choking? What's that-that noise? It's so freakin' loud. Please, please make it stop. Just make it stop! The noise, it pounding my head, mocking me; they're mocking me! They're hurting me on purpose. They're all probably laughing, like, like… *Him!

He's doing this isn't he; hurting me, laughing at me, pounding me, with, with all of these noises.

I-I CAN'T DIE AGAIN! Not again. Not now, not like this! My- My- It hurts! They're yelling, why are they yelling? _They,_ it's more than one. I feel movement and then - then _pain, pain, pain_!

I try to open my eyes, but they won't work, and they're burning, burning, _burning_! My eyes are on fire, my legs are cramped and stiff, and they hurt. My ear- head's hurting, and burning… Like, like it just got pounded and- and it burns too, like- like I just got beaten with a crowbar and blown up again!

No, no, _no_! My whole body's on fire! My nose is burning and I can't breathe out of it; someone must be pinching it- someone with a hand made of medal and fire! They're trying to suffocate me, trying to _kill _me!

No! Not again, I-I –can't-

I try to twist out of their grasp, but then I feel pain everywhere! My abdomen and entire upper body is on fire and burning and scraping, and scratching, and skinning.

I hear a terrifying inhuman noise and it only seems to scare and hurt me more and I jerk away, causing my head and body to throb only to realize it's coming from me. I hear desperate gasping noises and choked sobs along with other disturbing noises, and they're all coming from me!

I feel warm and cool liquid pouring out of my eyes, onto something damp, I feel my throat completely closed in on itself and every time I hear a noise, I suffer more for it. I want to stop it! I want to control it, but the more I think about it the more I can't help it; the more I panic.

I can't breathe, I can't see, I'm being tortured, I'm, I'm-I'm dying! And another thing scares me when I realize, I have no idea what's going on. Where am I, whose doing this, what-what

I feel someone – something, grab my jaws, and it hurts, hurts, _hurts_! They're trying to turn my head, and I start to slip from the pain it's causing…

I'm not sure if I blacked out or not, and that scares me too, how long was I out, what's- what's…

But my chest is killing me even more every second! And my head's being pounded harder; I can feel pressure build in both, with every passing second and then I realize- I realize I'm suffocating.

Then I feel something forcing my mouth open, and I think I hear myself give another choked sob, in fact I feel it. I try to lift my arms up in protest, only to find that the fire on my upper arms and upper body burns stronger, like it's restraining me and I'm forced to lay there and suffer.

I feel _them _trying to get to my throat, inside my throat, and I don't want to let them to, because I know they'll only cause more pain. I try to turn my head, close my mouth and struggle at first, but the pain get's too intense and they won't have it.

I try to make noises of protest as I feel them trying to force things, their torture equipment, down my throat, but it hurts even more because of that, causing more warm and cool liquid to run down my face, and then I realize, there's something on my face, laying on my nose and covering the upper portions of my head. Is that what this is, were they trying to suffocate me and now trying to save me, just so they can start the process all over again? I must have blacked out from the pain and lack of air, that might be why I don't remember much, maybe I'd inhaled the water and now they're trying to suck it out; so they can continue with their sick fun!

No, no, _no_! I won't let them, I won't let them! I-I

I feel them trying to push and prod something down my throat, and I hear this sucking sound, I also feel cold metal being stuck into my mouth and towards my throat and I start to panic; only to have something else occurred to me, they've drugged me.

My movements are heavy, I feel full of led and it's making my head and body ache worse, because it's trying to pull me under; trying to drag me back into unconsciousness, only for me to wake up to the next form of torture.

It's a tease, a tease telling me to give in, that they want me to give in, when it's all just one big tease! I won't let them, I can't let them-

I feel the cold medal pressing onto my burning, hurting throat and I see stars, all the sudden everything's too hot, not just burning, but _hot_, like a heat wave and I think I pass out for a second.

But they're still pushing and prodding and I feel hot ooze leaking into my mouth, and then I taste it and it taste bitter and terrible and, and bloody, I can taste iron as well. And then the pain, the pain is more then I can take!

It feels like someone is pouring acid down my throat and the once cold medal, doesn't feel so cold anymore, it's more like it's contrasting between the two, of acid and cold.

My throat's burning unbearably and I feel the fluid being sucked out, and this, this tube? being pushed down it, all while the metal and acid is pushing at it and I'm not sure if I've felt pain this intense, maybe when I died, and then I can't take it anymore, I need this to stop!

I let out a scream and that's over the limit now. I feel my back arch and the stars are back, and my- my- I've never felt this much pain before! I feel myself lose it, as my last resort of fight or flight take in and I can't even comprehend my movements, I'm just doing them.

It's not anything I was trained to do, it's not any moves I make against my tortures, it's not graceful or coordinated, it's panic and thrashing and twisting and flailing, and I can't help it. I lose it and I'm not even sure what I'm doing, my brains on over drive and I can't- cant

I my entire body contracts and I start to gag around their tools, causing unbearable pain and I feel stomach acid and puke trying to push its way through my throat and out my mouth, but it can't really, with how messed up and swollen my throat is and I start to gag even more, each jolt and movement and spasm my body is doing is causing me such pain I'm see colors with the stars now and I try to stop screaming and gagging, but it isn't working.

My throat's burning away to nothing, I'm sure, my head's going to explode and I realize to a terrifying extant just how bad the rest of my body is hurting when my body continues to make itself puke only for it to get caught in my throat.

I feel the metal and sucking tube forcefully make their way down my throat and then I feel the puke make its way up, not all of it though. I feel the thing I'm laying on lift up slightly, why, I'm not sure, but now I feel my upper body is a little higher then my lower.

I feel people grabbing my arms and tying my shaking/flailing wrist down, before moving down towards my feet, it hurts. I can feel my eyes rolling like heavy mar balls in my head, making it feel like someone taking a hammer to my eye sockets, it hurts.

I feel myself suffocating and I know I'm slipping. My upper body and head is begging for air so much that my movements are starting to slow and my muscle's to cramp more so, though they won't stop spasming and flailing even as they cramp and start to shut down. I feel lactic acid building up and my entire body burns more for it. I feel my head pound and I'm sure it is blowing up on itself, if that's even possible at this point, I don't care.

Then I feel something stab into my right lung and I'm getting air again, not much, but still, some, I think they're shoving a tube into it and it hurts!

At this point I'm begging with myself to pass out, but I can't and I don't know why. I'm trying everything I can think of, but that's the thing, I can't think! Just like when I was being beaten by that crowbar and I wanted nothing more, at many points, to just pass out but every time I would, I'd come too, only minutes, seconds? later.

Hurting would be an understatement to how I am really feeling, right now…

I then feel my body throw itself into an all out spasm attack, my body's no longer listening to me and I just want to _pass out_! The liquid is spilling out of my eyes faster now.

I can't tell if I'm slipping in and out of consciousness now or not. I hear the voices yelling and I vaguely remember the torturers were still here, but I couldn't bring myself to care much, I just wanted to pass out.

I feel myself start choking on my tongue before feeling it quickly being pulled out, I then feel a sharp pain going through my tongue and chin and I realize they're sewing my tongue down to my chin to keep me from choking on it, and I can't help that _noise _that comes out of my throat, protesting, though I notice it's a really weak noise, in fact all my noises have gotten weaker, so have my movements, I feel so weak and tired and… Everything I'm thinking of I can't fully comprehend and I wonder if the end is near, or if I'm slipping into unconsciousness; maybe the latter.

_Finally_, with all the pain raining down on me, my body's finally starting to slip into unconsciousness and I'm begging it to.

My body's still convulsing and the pain's still excruciating, but I'm slipping and my last thoughts are that, 'I'm going to die…'

* * *

**So in case you didn't know who '*him' was when Jason was panicking, that would be the joker he was thinking of.**

**Oh, and the 'torturers' are the paramedics and Leslie, and no they were not really torturing him, that's just what his messed up mind was thinking, hazily. They were actually trying to help him.**

** Oh, and yes, when you start choking on your tongue, which can happen, and don't freak out, read what was happening to Jason, he had all that goin' on, not gonna say exactly what!**

** But if you have a seizure, etc, it _can_ happen and yes, you sometimes have to do that, to keep them from choking on it.**

** Hope you enjoyed!**


	9. Chapter 9

**There is NO SLASHES AT ALL in this story.**

**I don't own batman or monster inside me etc, etc - go back to first chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Bruce's Point of View**

I am probably breaking every traffic law out there, but I can't find myself to care, at this rate we might even beat the ambulance to the Hospital, which doesn't make me feel any better in the least.

'What is going on? How did this happen, how is Jason losing so much skin and fluids _so fast?_ Leslie mentioned Necrotizing Fasciitis and I agree, it is a flesh eating bacteria, but how could Jason have contracted it? Tim and Dick said he was standing and actually talking to them not two hours ago! How on earth then did it escalate so quickly?'

'How could Jason not have noticed something wrong? It couldn't have just happened in the past two hours, correct? Tim had said he was _off_ from the beginning, then why wouldn't he have said anything? And how did it not affect him so harshly until now?'

'Flesh eating bacteria's can spread and work quickly, very quickly, but there has to be a cause. What could have given him this, or _who_, Jason/Red hood has a lot of enemies… I have a lot of enemies. Could he have contracted this during his persona?

'Something else seemed wrong though, like it wasn't _just_ a flesh eating bacteria, which could also lead to a number of problems. But something else…'

"Tim," I said looking through the car mirror into the back mirror, where Tim was working away, on who knows what, on his phone, "I need you to tell me _everything_ that you saw, analyzed, every little detail, now. Dick your next," I say looking to the passenger seat, before putting my focus back onto the road.

"I need to know _everything._" And so they began telling me everything they could possibly think of, about that morning events, again.

**Dick's Point of View**

We got to the hospital before the ambulance, right when I was finishing explaining that had happened this morning to Bruce, which didn't make me feel any better.

'Where are they? They should be here by now!'

'Oh gosh, what if something had happened? What if- No! I'm not going there,' I told myself while sprinting off towards the ER where the ambulance's drop off the patients, the rest of my family was close behind me, Tim further back, probably do to the fact that I hadn't cared enough to shut the door to the car.

In fact before we'd even stopped the car I was already jumping out of the it as was Damian, he had practically thrown himself over Tim's lap to get out the door. Since we were both coming out at the same time I had practically ran/jumped into his door, behind mine, but had managed to ram into him in the frenzy, though I couldn't find it in me to care, because next thing I know I'm running for the ambulance drop off with my family close behind me. Damian's closest so I guess it didn't affect him either, somewhere in my half frantic mind I know that's a good thing and am kind of glad, but the feeling quickly leaves me as I rush into the under pass were Jason should have _already _arrived at.

I skid to a halt and am vaguely aware that a security guard is telling me I couldn't be _here _and needed to wait in the waiting room, that and I just didn't care.

"Where are they," I ask while throwing my arms in the air for infuses and turning to Bruce.

"They should-"Bruce starts before a very annoyed looking security guard practically throws himself in Bruce's face and yells "I'm sorry sir, but you can't be here. You're going to have and wait in th-"

"My son is coming and should be here any seconds and quite frankly-"

"We've been in direct contact with Necrotizing Fasciitis," Tim pipes up from the back, while slowly walking forward. While the security guard self consciously takes a step back.

"Oh, then-"

"Then we need to wait _here_" Tim says with a finality in his voice taking a half a step closer to the security guard, while the security guard takes on big step back.

"You can't-"

"We _can_," says Tim and I actually find myself smirking in spite of this situation. "Our doctor is bringing someone who just had a full on outbreak of _it_ here and should arrive shortly, it's a complicated case, one I do not need to elaborate to _you_. She will subscribe us with the antibiotics we need, so I think it'd be in your best interest to mind your own business and leave us alone," Tim says while turning to look into the distance where the ambulance should be coming from.

Everyone is quite for a second, not rely sure what to do or say, but I have to say I'm pretty impressed with my little brother.

"I understand bu-" the guard starts again, only to be stopped by a yelling Bruce and Damian, but by then the ambulance is already in view.

"It's here," me and Tim yell in union and that get's everyone to be quite.

"That should be them," says Tim looking eager to see if Jason's doing okay, well maybe _okay_ wouldn't be the word for it.

I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet in anxiety and anticipation as the ambulance starts to pull in.

"Okay now," the moron guard starts again and I'm torn between glaring daggers at the idiot and keeping my eyes glued on the ambulance, I end up doing the latter. "You're gonna want to give the medics some space-" Bruce looks like he's about to punch the guys face in, but the ambulance is already screeching to a stop as the back doors are being thrown open, I see more medics rush towards the truck and wonder if they'd been here the whole time vaguely.

Damian's practically tripping over his own two feet to get a look at Jason and I find myself doing almost the exact same thing, only to have Bruce rush past me.

Bruce is closest but I can still get somewhat of a look and I almost sob and gag out of desperation and horror. Because I'm desperate for that to _not_ be Jason laying on that stretcher but knowing that it is.

He's even worse off than the last time we saw him and its terrifying different then how he looked just two hours ago, even if he did look like crap.

His pants have been pulled down to his thighs and I see a bloody mess, as though he's been skinned in patches all over his torso, spreading to behind his back, almost mid neck, shoulder to his mid biceps', patches covering his head, and going under his underwear line.

He has a tube sticking out of his right side where his lung is, I can't see his eyes due to the cloth covering them, but see the bloody, pus and murky discharge spewing from his body, as well as the bloody puke full of it, oh gosh, puke is _not _supposed to be bloody. I let out a half crazed chuckle that I just freaked out over bloody puke, when _look at him_!

I see the breathing mask still placed on his face, as well as a tube sucking out blood and discharge, and then I see that his tongue has been sewed down to his chin and have to regain my footing less I hit the asphalt, from the dizziness that had just hit me.

I see his pants and underwear are also a mess of fluids, blood and probably other stuff, indicating he also lost control of his bladder and bowel movements. I see he's still shaking/quaking and spasming, I also see the restraints tying him down and feel my heart accelerate even more so. Though he doesn't seem to be struggling forcefully, more so from all the shaking, I'm not even sure if he's conscious, though I have a feeling he's not and I'm not sure if I should be relieved or terrified by that.

I hear Bruce make a noise I haven't heard him make often as he gets a closer look at Jason, Damian makes a noise I've never heard him make before stopping abruptly, I'm pretty sure I hear Tim give something akin to a dry sob, and Alfred gives in a sharp intake of air.

As I get closer the smell hits me and I feel myself arch forward and gag, I feel bile rise up but make myself stand up straight and swallow it.

They're quickly putting something that looks like a resemblance of aluminum foil over his body before quickly throwing the blanket back around him, and then start rushing him inside.

I follow them trying to keep an eye on Jason, but people keep getting in my way. I also realize there are already IV's sticking out of Jason. The doctors are yelling, Bruce is yelling, everyone seemed to be yelling and/or doing something. And I can't remember a time I've ever felt so useless.

We eventually make it to a point where we can no longer follow, though Bruce doesn't seem to take a liking to that idea and just about barges in, in fact I think he does at first, I'm not really sure.

I'm just stuck staring numb at the door.

Stuck there thinking 'my brother is going to die, _again.'_

* * *

** By the way, it should be better explained later on, maybe, but don't think that Jason and Dick are all buddy buddy now, read previous chapters to better get what i mean. I mean they love each other, because THEY ARE 'BROTHERS' - but i'm trying to get what the characters might actually be feeling in this kinda situation. **

** Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

**THERE ARE (NO SLASHES) IN THIS STORY!**

**I ****do not own Batman, DC or Monsters inside me- go back to first chapter, etc, etc.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Tim's Point of View**

We've been here for five hours and four minutes, I thought while looking down at my phone, which read 4:48, only for it to switch to 4:49; okay then, five hours and five minutes. We were put into quarantine three hours and forty-nine minutes ago, only twenty hours and eleven minutes left until we're clear, or perhaps when our blood work comes in.

Jason's still in the OR and no one's come to update us on what's going on, which is disconcerting, but okay at the same time. Disconcerting because I am anxious to know what's going on, we all are, but okay because that means Jason's still holding on…

I started researching twenty eight minutes after we arrived. I'd been doing some before then, but that was more of a desperate frenzy in search for information. It's still been an on and off process, though.

After Jason had been rushed away and the nurses had calmed Bruce down, to an extent, we were rushed into examining rooms and were each prescribed antibiotics for Necrotizing Fasciitis before it could turn into something more serious.

None of us are showing symptoms for it, but better safe than sorry; it's highly contagious.

We were each then assigned to different rooms to be placed into quarantine for the next twenty four hours, or until all the test come back clean, still around twenty-four hours, that was at 1:11 p.m.; so that they may keep an eye on us, just in case. Well, we were _supposed_ to be in our assigned rooms but we all ended up in Bruce's; and since he was a billionaire, we got away with it. I also think that we won't be in the clear tomorrow at 1:11 p.m. exactly, that is why am estimating the time to be more so 1:00 p.m. tomorrow, but who knows with Hospitals.

It was a fairly large room, okay it was a big room. They had moved two separate hospital beds into the room and it was still movable, in fact if we moved the beds closer together we could easily fit more beds in here; they had offered, but we declined.

Bruce was in one of the beds, Alfred the other, while Dick and Damian shared the third. I remained in one of the chairs researching away on my phone. None of them had to stay in bed, though the doctors might say otherwise, but what else was there to do in this room?

I hated being resigned to a hospital gown, as had everyone else, but they had confiscated our clothes, claiming they were contaminated. I understand, really I do, in fact it was a wise choice, but I still hated hospital gowns; that's why I had thrown a blanket over my lap.

Dick had the idea of calling Barbra to ask if she could bring us some clothes, at least sweats and T-shirts. The doctors had been reluctant; it took a very aggravated Bruce and Damian to help change their minds, though they wouldn't allow me to have my laptop, I'm lucky to have kept my phone actually, if we did have the disease they wanted to contain it as much as possible.

Barbra said she'd be here around five, she wouldn't be allowed in the room, of course, but she'd give our clothes over to the nurses.

She was nice enough to buy them new clothes, Bruce said he'd pay her back, until they were claimed clean of the illness, right now the Manor was on some sort of lock down, not that that really means much saying they were in the hospital and nobody else was staying there.

Once it was made clear that none of them had contracted the illness they would be able to return, though if any of them _had_ contracted it, the house would need to be cleaned/sanitized, which would need to happened anyways, because well, Jason.

"Father, when is Gordon arriving with our new attire?! Should she not be here by now? I cannot tolerate these _rags," _Damian says and again I get this urge to punch him in the face or blow up at him, I _really _need to work on that.

I look up and see Bruce glaring at the stupid soap opera that Dick had turned on after watching two hours of CNN.

When Bruce didn't answer, instead rubbing a hand over his face, Dick decided to vouch instead.

"Shh, Dammie, you'll wake Alfred. And Barbra lives on the other side of town, plus went to buy us some clothes, she's probably caught in traffic, she'll be here soon…. Why don't you get some sleep, we're going to be here for a while," Dick says in a voice full of exhaustion, I get a closer look to access him, no defeat.

That's the best way to describe how Dick looks and sounds right now, defeated, and it unnerves me.

**Damian's Point of View**

Did that idiot just tell me to take a nap, like I'm some sort of child?! Yes, well excuse me Grayson, but not everyone enjoys wearing an insipid _gown_.

**Dick's Point of View**

Great, now he's giving me that look, here it comes.

"Contrary to belief _Grayson_," he spits my name out like its venom; I am so _not_ in the mood to deal with this.

"But unlike you I do _not_ find joy in the the fact that I'm wearing gown." For the-

"And do you think I am so insolent that I need a nap after a day of next to none, physical exertion? You do realize we've been in a bed for hours on end. I am not a child!" What the heck, I need a nap.

"I never said you were, Damian," I growl out, I am so done with this, why isn't Bruce helping, oh wait, he's Bruce.

"Alfred's sleeping," I say jerking my arm in Alfred's direction for emphasis, "but he won't be, if you keep yelling. And by the way, for _your _information, I dislike these gowns just as much as you," I say maybe a little too sharply.

Damian stares at me for a few moments with something akin to disgust, surprise and something else. Great, I shouldn't have snapped at him like that I-

**Tim's Point of View**

I had kind of been 'trying' to tone out the conversation, so that I wouldn't be further provoked to join in, but I glance up from my phone at a break in their conversation and I can tell, they're about to-

"Alfred is old-"

"What the heck Da-"

"And do you actually think that I would even attempt sleep-"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay!-"

Great they're getting louder, I wonder if Alfred is actually sleeping at this point.

"When I have no idea what To-Jason's condition is," Damian yells and the room falls quiet.

"Huh," Dick makes like he's going to say something only to turn his face away and allow his eyes to wonder to nowhere at all, and then I feel something too.

Something rising from my stomach to my throat; I know Jason's chances are slim, heck, _very_ slim at this point, but I haven't let myself except it, I still won't allow myself to except it, no matter what the research say's, no matter what the situation looks like.

But seeing Dick, like _this_, it's risking to break thoughs walls, and I don't like that. It makes me feel sick and overwhelmed and… Angry. Not just _angry_ but angry at him, for, for allowing me to feel this way. I know it's irrational and it's not his fault, but dang it, Dick isn't allowed to be like this right now. Because if Dick get's upset like this then… then Damian will get worse, Bruce is already shutting himself out, and, and, this isn't fair!

What right do they have to act like this already - no, not _already_. We don't know what the future holds and they're all being irrational acting like this! Like they know; like they've given up, well, at least they're starting down that path.

The path where they're getting ready to except the worst, no like they're expecting the worst; like Jason's going to die.

**Bruce's Point of View**

"-When I have no idea what To-Jason's condition is," Damian yells before the room falls silent.

I look over at Damian to see him heatedly staring at Dick, who had seemed like he was going to respond but ended up looking towards the floor in some form of defeat.

He looks tired, not just physically, but mentally, how is he? How is he taking this? How is Damian taking this? Tim? Alfred?... What am I doing?

I need to be there for them, I can't afford to push them all away again, it isn't fair. What I did after Damian had died… is unacceptable, they needed me and I drove them away. What I did after Ja-... What I did after Jason died… was unacceptable.

They need me, it's written all over their faces and body language in different ways. Dick looks dejected, Damian looks… scared, Tim looks like he's about to unhinge, and Alfred's probably not taking it well either. And I-

No, I can't afford to think like that, not now; I need to be there for them, and a part of me screams I need to be there for Jason, but being angry for my situation won't help.

Jason's still in the OR, he's going to pull through, I need to trust that, and give the others hope too.

Before I could open my mouth the doctor comes in with a grave look, where's Leslie?

"Mr. Wayne,"

_Don't_

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**I hope you enjoyed.**


	11. Chapter 11

** It's been a while; yep, so next chapter.**

** Oh, and by the way, i don't own Batman, anything Batman related or Monsters Inside me (go back to first chapter.) Etc., etc.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Bruce's Pointy of View**

"Mr. Wayne," The Doctor says when he walks into the room.

_Don't. Not again._

It takes me a moment to get my bearings about me enough to answer, though it still sounds strained even to my own ears, "Yes," I'm not sure how I am suppose to reply to him, but I'm certain that sounded wrong, even to me.

The doctor seems exhausted and that only goes unsettles me further.

"Sir, we were wondering what relations are to Mr. Peters," The doctor asked using Jason's aliases last name.

_You have got to- I don't have time for this!_

"One of the security guards informed us that you had referred to Mr. Peters as your son," The Doctor asked looking like he wanted to be doing anything but this, well that makes two of us; just tell me how my son is doing!

"He is like a son of mine he is close friends with all my sons and often over." This is a partial lie; Jason isn't really _close_ friends to any of his brothers, except maybe Tim? And is most never over, except after Damian had come back; often to check on him, though he wouldn't admit that _that_ was why he'd unexpectedly drop by, though everyone seemed to have a good idea that it was; even if nobody would ever want to talk about such a subject.

"I see," the doctor said, not sounding fully convinced, pushing my temper even more. "Well, unfortunately we are not permitted here to give off patient's information unless they are in direct relation to him or her."

Before I could bribe and or berate this man, Tim asked, "Where is Leslie Thompkins?"

The doctor looked hesitantly between the members of the room before his gazed fixed on Tim again, "Doctor Thompkins is getting Mr. Peters situated, and informed me that she would arrive here shortly."

It felt as though the thick tension in the room lessened significantly upon finding that Jason was indeed alive. I hear Dick release a breath of what I can only imagine was relief.

_Jason was alright, he had to be for being situated, right?... No, Jason was most defiantly not in the clear._

And everyone in the room seemed to be thinking the same thing, because they had no idea what he was being _situated _for exactly. How was he? What was wron-

"If Leslie told you that she would be coming to talk to us; then why are _you_ asking the questions, that she will most likely be asking? And what is she exactly _situating_ Jason for," Tim asked again, sounding slightly annoyed, though it was probably more of a front to how everyone was feeling…

The doctor looked even more annoyed and offended by what Tim had said; "I am just following procedure sir," the man said with a slight edge, "And again I am not authorized to give such information about th-"

"That will be all Dr. Andrews," Leslie said while making her way into the room. Who knew how much she had heard, with how loud the Doctor seemed to be getting with each word, probably from exhaustion and possibly stress.

Dr. Andrews quickly turned to Leslie surprised to see her behind him, before he could say anything Leslie smiled and said "I can take it from here, thank you."

Andrews did not look happy in the slightest as he turned to leave; seeming to send a glare to everyone in the room besides Leslie as he made his leave.

"How is he, Leslie," I asked immediately, after the other doctor left the room.

**No One's Point of View**

Leslie looked awful; there were dark circles under her eyes, her hair, that was pulled up into a bun was a mess and if this hadn't been her profession for so many years she might just have collapsed in a heap and had a good cry.

"It's," she started before quickly averting her gave to the floor and took a breath trying to compose herself before gazing at the others in the room and looking over at Bruce with tears in her eyes, "It's not good, Bruce."

**Dick's Point of View**

Everyone in the room went dead silent, even Damian stiffened besides me.

_Not good? Well of course it's 'not good' did you see him? What does she mean 'not goo-'_

"What do you mean '_not good,'_" Bruce asks and I'm practically holding my breath while leaning forward in anticipation.

_Please, let it not be 'that bad.' Please let Jason not die agai- _

**No One's Point of View**

Leslie lets out a heavy sigh and grips her temple. "First off, Jason has a _severe _case of streptococcal, group A. He also has Necrotizing Fasciitis, which in extreme cases, like this one, can stem from the streptococcal. It has gotten… out of hand. It has spread from his lower thighs up and around his head. It is most severe around his abdomen and back. His arms, specifically the upper areas are also highly affected. We aren't certain with how far it has gotten into his body but it isn't good. We weren't able to run all of the test yet-"

"You had him back there for hours," Dick says, while trying to come to grips with what is happening.

"Yes we did," Leslie said while glancing down at her lap, trying to compose herself.

"Jason- he- he's not doing well. He-"

"Of course Todd's not doing well! He's-"

"Damian, enough," Bruce yells the stress clearly getting to him; it's written all over his face.

"Please. Continue, Leslie," Bruce says before the thick silence settles over the room again in anticipation.

"Yes, well," Leslie says before giving a heavy puff of air, composing herself more so, "Jason, his heart stopped three times during the procedure."

Thick silence settled over the room for what felt like an eternity but what could have only been a few seconds.

"Wh-" Bruce starts but Leslie quickly cuts him off.

"We couldn't complete all the testing _and_ work on stabilizing him all at once, it was too much on his body. I had to call a quits _for now_ and let his body rest for a few hours; he is _not _stable enough to continue farther testing for the time being.

"But what we were able to take from some of the labs, we did manage to do, is that it is streptococcal A and that Jason does most definitely have a severe case of Necrotizing Fasciitis, the rest of the tests we were able to perform on him, which is a very good amount, are still in the labs… But Bruce, it's not good."

"… What do you predict, Leslie," Bruce finally asked trying to remain calm, but everyone could tell he was not doing a job as he wanted to be.

"… I- I cannot give you a proper answer until all the tests-"

"Leslie! Just tell me what you think," Bruce said, quickly losing his calm demeanor.

"… I think that Jason might have bacteremia, Streptococcal pneumonia, Rheumatic Fever; he was and continues to slip in and out of sepsis shock, as well. I also believe that he has a multitude of skin infections, but that is harder to tell due to the Necrotizing Fasciitis.

"We are currently treating him as though he _does_ have all these diseases that can stem from streptococcal.

"Jason is currently in quarantined, due to the fact that he is highly contagious and that we simply cannot risk him being subjective to _any _more illnesses or germs that will escalate his illnesses.

"He is in an induced coma, though I'm not sure at this point he wouldn't have gone into one on his own from the severity of his conditions

"We are currently pumping him full of antibiotics and other fluids that should help with his conditions along with high amounts of morphine; but due to the Necrotizing Fasciitis it is having a hard time running its course through his body.

"Jason is practically an open wound at this point. We are doing our best to cover it and stabilize him, but it has progressed dangerously so. We believe that we need to flush the disease out before we can start giving him skin grafts or the disease will just spread to the new skin as well.

"Jason's throat has closed almost completely, though at a time did, so we have breathing tubes in both of his lunges. We are also considering trying to pump his right lung of fluid, but we do not believe it has gotten that severe yet.

"I- I'm sorry Bruce." Leslie said as tears started to form in her eyes.

Bruce was speechless; everybody was speechless. It took Bruce a full minute before asking, "Do you-" Bruce starts before squeezing his eyes shut in frustrations and anger. "Do think he'll be alright," he grounds out trying to stay composed.

Tears started falling down Leslies face as she replied, "I don't think so… Not this time."

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** I hope you enjoyed!**


	12. Chapter 12

**In this chapter everybody's still a little shocked and maybe in denial?...**

** THIS IS NOT A SLASH AT ALL**

** I do not own DC or Monsters Inside Me, etc. go back to first chapter, etc. etc.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Tim's Point of View**

I look at the clock on my phone for the fourteenth time in the past two minutes and thirty seconds, or somewhere around that; it reads 6:49 p.m. I hold back a sigh so that Dick will not feel the need to ask me for the umpteenth time in an almost two hour time frame if I am 'okay,' because _I am okay._

After Leslie had given us the news on Jason's condition a thick silence had settled over the room, before Damian decided he had had enough on this situation entirely blaming the doctors, blaming Jason for being an 'imbecile' and allowing himself to stoop this low and contracting these _weakening diseases. _I attempted blocking out the conversation from that point on, watching numbly as the time ticked by.

I did manage to catch onto a few things though, such as Dick and Bruce also blowing up, only I think Dick was on the verge of some kind of breakdown. Bruce was going on and on about who knows what; Alfred just remand silent. In the end Damian had just about blamed everyone for the situation entirely, ending and I believe purposefully, with me.

Bruce had demanded to go see Jason immediately, though Leslie had insisted that there was nothing he could do right now and that Jason _needed_ rest and so did we, I _almost_ laughed at that part. She further went on to explain that Jason _couldn't _be seeing people anyways right now, because he was in quarantine and _what part of he needs rest don't you get?_

I could tell that the stress of the situation was getting to Leslie as well, eight minutes and forty two seconds into this _conversation_ and it was obvious that Leslie did not want to be in the room any longer. The _conversation_ had lasted thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds anyways, guess we don't always get what we want.

Well, Leslie had left the room after thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds into the _conversation_ I mean; it went on for forty-one minutes after that. Alfred had to tell Bruce to stay in bed and take Leslie's advice… She said she would return later tonight, though.

Barbara had given the clothes to the nurse like she said she would though, we got the clothes at 5:46 p.m., that had been around the time that our _conversation_ was coming to an end. I had simply gotten up taken the clothes from the nurse, picked out my size and headed to the only bathroom in the room, blocking out the rest of the world in the process.

Now I am back in the chair I was sitting in previously, in a red hoodie and sweats, staring at nothing at all, I'm sure I'm staring at _something_ but my mind is too far gone to care what that is.

I snap out of my intense thoughts that seem to mean nothing at all; daydreaming? I guess that's what you could call it and again focus on the others in the room. Dick is fidgeting; Damian is lying down next to him glaring at the ceiling tiles. Alfred is asleep and I don't feel like looking over and analyzing Bruce, not that I'm really analyzing anyone right now. I know what he's doing something I need to be doing, something I was doing not two minutes ago, looking for help. Bruce and I have already called eighteen doctors that specialize with these sorts of illnesses. We're _waiting _now for a good number of them to return our calls while others to actually get here. I know that Bruce has at least two Doctors flying in already from somewhere in the World, and probably trying to get more to fly in as we speak.

After we had gotten are clothes Bruce had demanded a laptop and phone. I started looking into the illnesses and professionals myself. Bruce had gotten two big time Doctors. I have gotten one and am waiting for another to call me back.

Bruce is still typing away on his laptop and making phone calls as well every few minutes, all from his hospital bed.

I look down at the phone in my lap again, the blank screen now reflecting me and suddenly I feel overwhelmingly tired. I don't even know _why_, well, that's not true, but…

I don't know what to feel or how to feel about this. I did do a little research ten minutes ago but even that seems unsatisfying. I feel… I feel… drained. I'm tired too, or I don't know! All of this is just seems to be too much! I mean it all happened so fast. – I wasn't expect- I can't- brea-

NO!

I cannot allow myself to _feel _this way. Panicking will do nothing- _nothing. _But staying in this room seems to be doing _nothing_. I can't just sit here! But what will be accomplished if I do leave this room?...

I know that we currently have three well named doctors who specialize in these fields flying in from around the World, but what if they don't get here in time?! I mean Jason could still be slipping in and out of sepsis shock, is definitely not stable and who knows how he is _right _now? I mean things can easily just turn from worse to even worse in one second and we wouldn't have a clue it was happening until _after._

I quickly try shaking those thoughts from my head before they spiral out of control, while keeping myself from physically shaking my head, lest Dick asks if I'm okay again; because _I am_ _okay… I just fine._

**_. . ._**

**No One's Point of View**

Leslie didn't return to their room until around nine thirty p.m. Her hair looks even more unkempt and dark bags hung under her eyes, she looked physically and emotionally beat down, and if anyone looked closely enough they could see the red irritating lines rimming her eyes, both from crying earlier and from lack of sleep. But before she entered the Wayne's room she put herself together, gave a deep sigh and straightened her back out, before walking in.

The sight that greeted her almost made her want to burst, she was not surprised both Bruce and Timothy were pouring over their work, electronics and notes. Dick seemed to be going over their notes as well, but Leslie had known the family long enough to know, this is how they keep it together, even with Damian glaring at the sheets of paper spread out over his and Dicks bed.

She cleared her throat to get their attention she seemed to have Alfred's already. Just before any of them were able to bombard her with questions she quickly pulled up her hands to stop them.

"First, it has been confirmed that Jason does have bacteremia and Rheumatic Fever and is still being tested for other ailments. He continues to slip in and out of sepsis shock, and his fever keeps escalating and dropping, his heart seems to have finally gotten more stable, though we're still keeping a close eye on that, the last episode of sepsis shock was almost an hour ago, so that's… that's something.

"We were able to thoroughly clean out his wounds and wrap them, which will help him from catching further infections. His wounds are still draining which is a good thing, but also not… It means the infection is somewhat flushing out but also that he is losing a major amount of fluids, including bloods now.

"He's also having organ failure it seems in his kidneys and possibly liver and is now on a dialysis machine, which should also help with the bacteremia… Right now he's more stable then he has been since arriving at the Hospital… But… it still doesn't look good Bruce." By the time Leslie had gotten to the end of the sentence she had gotten very quiet and looked away for a moment to compose herself.

"I have already called in-" Bruce started only for Leslie to cut him off.

"I know! I know Bruce," she looks away for a brief second before quickly looking back.

"I was able to pull a few strings," she said before taking in a quick breath. "Since he's been rather stable for the past hour I'm going to try and let you see Jason. You won't be permitted to enter the room," she quickly adds, "It's too risky."

"I understand," Bruce says slowly, _almost_ sounding shocked, or perhaps cautious.

"I'll allow you all ten minutes, its glass so you'll able to see through."

. . .

They had still needed to scrub down and but on masks, paper gowns and gloves before enter two thick doors allowing them into the hallway that led them to the front of Jason's room.

There was a long glass window, but it was covered by the curtain on the inside.

"I'm going to go in and pull back the curtain… Before I go I want you to know, it's not going to be what you think… If you feel the need to walk away or leave, just go down the hallway," Leslie said while eyeing Damian, she still didn't seem to agree with him being back here.

None of them said anything as Leslie walked into the room, they all heard the beeping of various machines and the sound of tubes sucking, as the strong smell of alcohol rub hit their noses, it was ten times stronger than the rest of the hospital.

When Leslie pulled back the curtain, which seemed to have taken forever none of them could have been prepared with the sight that greeted them.

Jason was covered in bandages, almost like a mummy you see in cheesy movies and cartoons. Almost every inch of him was covered from his torso rising all the way up his neck going around his head covering it, remind Bruce sickly of the time Joker had wrapped all his son's and Barbara's faces in bandages claiming to have skinned them.

The parts that were most visible on Jason's head was his mouth which had a tube jabbed into it, his tongue still seemed to be sewn down to his chin and looked to have inflated five times its actual size. A good portion of his black hair was still visible on the top of his head surrounded by bandages.

There was also a wet rag lying next to his head, in case his fever might spike again, along with a cooling blanket spread out on the chair next to the bed.

There were also still breathing tubes jabbed into either of his lunges, while his right lung seemed to have something else jabbed into it, draining it… Must have decided to drain his right lung of fluid after all…

His arms all the way to his mid forearms were covered in bandages, leaving the remainder of his arms and hands covered I.V.s and monitors.

The navel of his stomach to his mid shins was covered in a blanket but tubes were still bulging out from under it. His feet had a pair of hospital socks placed on them that seemed rather thick almost meeting the blanket where it ended. There were also more I.V.s and tubes sticking out from beneath the socks and blanket; it was clear that his feet and shins had received the same treatment as his forearms and hands.

There were also thick tubes colored red connecting Jason to the dialysis machine.

The parts of Jason's skin that were actually visible even surround by tubes and things, was white, red and blotchy. His veins were very visible under the white parts of his skin and his upper lip was a purplish color. The only thing that seemed to be tell them that Jason was alive was the vital machines, no matter how bad the readings might be and the breathes they watched his body will in and out that looks like it would have been uncomfortable if he had been conscious, but then again could Jason feel right now?

Leslie had said that the Fluids were having a hard time running their course through Jason's body due to him practically being an open wound and the wound that was spreading.

Maybe just maybe it would have been easier to look at Jason if the bandages weren't blotched with body fluids, but they were. Yellow and brownish colors came seeping in through the bandages along with some red in certain areas along his body. They could only imagine from experience what that must smell like.

Just how bad did it look under those bandages?

Everyone took in the scene before them. Tim turned to leave no longer willing himself to look, Damian had taken a step back just staring and Dick was now gazing at the floor grasping at his hair trying to stay grounded.

Alfred soon left to follow after Tim grasping Bruce's shoulder before turning completely to leave. Bruce – Bruce just seemed to stand there his world seeming to falling apart, again.

* * *

**Looking bad for Jason, there might not be a happy ending... I mean survive? That?**

**Well I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Bible Verse:**

**Matthew 6:34**

**"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. **

**\- Jesus**


	13. Note

** THIS IS PROBABLY UP ONLY TEMPORARILY!**

**So, I'm not really sure I'm going to finish this story. ****_IF I DO_**** the story is really going to go downhill for some of you. HINTS ITS PROBABLY GONNA BE DEPRESSING. I might add more hints or just say where this story might be going; but again i'm not even sure if i'm continuing. But yeah probably some hard stuff to read? if continued. **


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 **

**Warning: Talks of feeling hopeless, depression, smoking, addiction, etc.**

**In this chapter it will be seen _sorta_ from Tim's point of view. **

**No slash in this story.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**I don't own batman or DC or monsters inside me - (go back to first chapter.)**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

It had been two weeks since Jason had been placed in the hospital's _care_. In that time different specialist had flown in from various parts of the world all ending up saying the same thing, _Jason wasn't going to make it._

They hadn't said those exact words but they might as well have. All the, 'Due to circumstances-,' '- you should start preparing for the worst,' 'There's little we can actually do in this field of concern due to-.' Different words same meanings; Jason is going to die again.

They had gotten little sleep in the past two weeks desperately clawing for answers and solutions. _'Stalling,'_ Tim thought while practically power walking through the hospital's halls.

He needed to get out. Everything was just becoming _too much_, again. He really didn't want to have another panic attack, again.

He had just finished having another 'discussion' with Bruce about the _reality_ of this situation. Pieces of it still streaming through his head at what felt like one-hundred miles an hour clips.

_ "-you may be willing to give up-."_

"I'm not giving up!"

Tim started blinking rapidly making his steps more deliberate as if that could will away his thoughts. He could feel panic clawing at his chest, desperately trying to consume him as a wheeze of breath escaped his lips.

_ 'No, no! Not here, not again. Just push it down.'_

Tim disliked this- these moments of panic that would try and overwhelm him at times. It might be due to the fact that he often didn't allow himself 'feel.' Emotions would blur his actions, make him more desperate which could lead to being rash.

Somebody had to keep a leveled head, Bruce might seem to be but bringing up the- the facts quickly brought out Bruce's true colors on this matter.

_ 'Just because I accept the reality of things does not mean I like it!'_

Before Tim even thought to stop himself he quickly delivered a sharp punch to the wall of the hall he was turning into, letting out a dry sob that he just barely reigned in swallowing down the rest.

Seeming to quell some of his building panic if only for a few seconds. When he pulled away he saw blood smeared onto the wall, his blood, due to the walls being made so thickly.

He looked down at his bloody knuckles, 'reckless' he thought while quickly rubbing at blood with the sleeve of his hoodie. Pulling away he saw that his attempt at cleaning up his mess had only caused it to smear more, causing him to let out a watery, half desperate laugh at the how symbolic that seemed; fitting perfectly into the mess that was his life right now.

_ 'I don't have time for –,' _Tim let his thoughts wander as he made a beeline for the hospitals staircase, leading in two different directions and two different options, the lobby that would then lead to the doors that would get him out of this place, well physically, but he didn't want to think of that. To think that he couldn't _truly_ shake the realities this place brought.

The other direction leads up to the roof; two different directions, two different options both inevitably leading to the same goal, same place, _out._

Tim quickly decided to make his way down the stairs trying to keep his thoughts elsewhere, anywhere other than this place and the depressing reality that it threw at anybody who walked through its doors.

Tim was steadily growing a deeper and deeper dislike for hospitals with every passing day. He had never truly been fond of them in the first place, sure hospitals were there to _fix_ people, but that was the _problem_ wasn't it; hospitals were constant reminders that there was always somebody in need of _fixed_ and it's awful hard to fix something that isn't already broken.

'_Jason is broken,' _dark thoughts whispered into his already heavy mind _'and he's not going to get fixed either.' _

By the time Tim had made it to the lobby he was blinking rapidly and harshly, willing his thoughts away. Tim needed out he needed to get away – he needed to do _something_ anything to quell the panic and ease his thoughts.

Dick ran when life became so suffocating, he had a need to move, to _fly_. Jason would fight, Jason would- Jason would smoke.

Thoughts came rushing into Tim's mind of all those times he'd catch the subtle shake of his brother's hands, how he'd get twitchy sometimes. How when life would be crashing down again on Jason's shoulders, he'd watch his brother quell that panic through fighting and aggression but also through smoking. It was almost like two different vises, two different problems to numb down the bigger, more up front one.

Rationally Tim knew what his brothers did was _'wrong'_ numbing their pain with vises that would slowly grow into something much greater and nastier. How Dick would become more reckless with his stunts, not always looking before he jumped and grappled, how that would also bleed into his fighting and then surely his life.

How many times had he watched Dick slip into a depression because of that? Where he couldn't even bring himself to hand out those _overly_ excited 'fake' smiles he was so known for wearing? Even if those closest to him only seemed to see the fakeness in his overly enthusiastic personality; even then not _always._

How many times had he seen, _experienced _Jason lashing out recklessly? Letting his hurt and pain consume him to the point that he had almost no regard for those he was hitting until it was too late. Leaving himself and the others affected to live with the consequences dealt out.

How many times had he seen the effect smoking has on his brother? Leaving him chain smoking away his problems in the late hours of the night on rooftops alone. How it would also affect his life, slowly seeping into his _work_ life, especially if he was having a _bad_ week, leaving him smoking all the more. How his cough would sound even worse if he ever had a simple cold or sickness.

How at the end of the day he'd just run out of cigarettes starting the cycle all over again, causing more frustration, causing more hurt, which too would lead to depression, which he knew Jason would often have due to a multitude reasons.

Vices were addictions and addictions were all a sort of_ drug _and just like every drug it runs its course leaving you feeling even more hopeless.

Tim wasn't going to let himself contemplate these things, not this time. On one of these rare occasions Tim didn't want to _think_ at all. Because if he allowed himself to do so he'd start to think about the building he had just fled from.

The hospital would still be in view if he turned around, but he didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to be reminded that his family was still in that very hospital at a loss about what to do with their _dying_ member; lying in a bed, just lying there.

Because what else could Jason be doing? Nothing! His brother was stuck in a comatose state on life support as his brain slowly faded away and they couldn't fix it; the _doctors _couldn't fix it either. Tim _really_ didn't want to think about it!

Tim didn't want to think about how Dick was just slowly detaching himself with the situation in general except for the many occasions he deemed it appropriate to have some sort of outburst with Bruce. It had originally been outburst with just about everyone, now it seems to just be Bruce and Alfred apparently if he tries to interfere with their oh so important arguments. Alfred hasn't tried doing so since.

He didn't want to think about how he'd often catch Dick just sitting there almost eerily still, so unlike him that it would become unnerving. Staring at the hallway's blank white walls locked somewhere else in his own head.

Or about how he'd caught Damian crying on the hospital roof one night after a particularly _hard_ day one filled with harsh words, empty apologies from the doctors and threats of calling security. Sure it had been going on for numerous days before hand but that had been a particularly hard, _fun packed _day.

The fact was that Damian didn't _cry_ often. The only time Tim could think of was when Damian had found out that Dick was _dead_ while he was alive.

Tim didn't want to think about Bruce's persistence, his '_hope' _that Jason would make it and refusing to believe otherwise. Tim wondered if Bruce actually believed that at all. _'Denial was a very common symptom of grief.'_

But Jason wasn't dead, so then why did it feel like he already was?_ 'That's hopelessness,' _his brain would supply but he quickly tried to direct his thoughts to elsewhere.

He let his feet lead him to the nearest convenience store and wouldn't allow himself contemplate about what he was doing as he bought his first pack of cigarettes, the kind he'd catch Jason smoking most often and a lighter.

He mumbled his thanks to the clerk and quickly made his way out the door. The cold wind almost immediately hit his face in a gust of wind. He looked down at his hands, at the objects in them. A red lighter he hadn't spent much thought grabbing, a pack of cigarettes and the receipt; he had wanted to keep it for some reason.

He stuffed the receipt into his pocket looked up at the dark sky littered with rooftops before making his journey up one of them. Once he'd settled on the ledge of a particularly high building but not as high as many of the others surrounding, he allowed himself to re-examine the two objects in his hand. The reality of what this might mean for him started to cloud into his mind; doubts or was it logic?

He opened the box of cigarettes before taking one of them out and slipping it in-between his fingers. After that he, almost carefully, placed the box close to his left thigh making sure it wouldn't go toppling over the edge if a strong gust of wind came by.

He soon found himself studying the objects in his hands, mainly the cancer stick. How something so small can cause so much damage. He quickly altered his thoughts before he could start coming up with a million different analogies in his head about these two object that he held almost delicately in his hands.

Why had he bought these items anyways? '_To escape.' _To numb the problems and hurts that plagued him right now. He'd often turned to research and working to do just that, but that's what he'd been doing almost nonstop for the past two weeks and were had that gotten him? It only left him feeling more depressed and hopeless, because no amount of research was going to save Jason.

He let those thoughts run through his mind as he lit his first cigarette.

Jason smoked; Jason smoked _these _kinds of cigarettes. A strong gust of wind hit him and lifted some of the smoke from the end of the cigarette with it, leaving the air with a smoky tobacco tang to it.

_ 'It smells a little like Jason.' _It smelled a little like his brother that probably wouldn't be here for much longer and with that Tim shut his eyes bringing the cancer stick up to his lips only to stop short of taking in a puff.

An edge of the cigarette touched his lower lip before he pulled it away all together. _'What am I doing? I'm not smoking to forget I'm smoking because it reminds me of my older brother, I'm smoking because it makes me feel like I have a part of him with me. Which is stupid because really Jason was a fifteen-minute walk from here._

But Tim didn't _want_ to go back and see said brother who didn't even seem to be there anymore. Who looked dead already and the only indication and reason he was alive at the moment was due to all the machines they had him hooked up to. Forcing air in and out of his lunges; life support.

The low beeping indicating that he was still alive, for now. Jason might be alive right now but it made Tim utterly hopeless sitting there, watching him for hours, days, huh even minutes seemed to hurt! Knowing that they couldn't help him anymore, all they had left that they could do without _giving up _would be to hope for a miracle.

Tim felt tears sliding down his cheeks and for the first time in a while he didn't get the immediate urge to wipe them away and rein himself back in.

Jason would be brain dead soon, they all secretly knew/thought it but that was the thing about secrets like these, nobody wanted to talk about them. They were like surreal secrets. Sure they all knew that they were all in on said secret but once they actually started to whisper about said secret it wasn't a secret any more. And nobody wanted that, because that would make it _real_.

Tim's hands were shaking and he let the cigarette slip through his fingers briefly watching as it made its descent to the ground below. Tim looked out at the city before him, seeing part of the hospital in the not so far, distance and let out a breathless sob.

Tim felt his heart thudding in his chest as he finally _fell apart_.*

* * *

**Notes:**

*** that sentence is a little iffy depending on how you look at it? Tim was already _falling apart_, but I'm saying more so that he finely allowed himself to really let go of the 'façade?' - for the moment.**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

* * *

** Bible verse:**

**John 16:33:**

**"-I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take to heart; I have overcome the world."**

**\- Jesus**


End file.
